Nicole Stevens: Dragons and Deceit
by AquilisRose
Summary: Nicole Stevens, the now seventh-year, is having visions. Plus, she has an annoying raven to deal with. And a magic mirror-pool.
1. Chapter One

Title: Nicole Stevens: Dragons and Deceit (01/?)  
Author name: AquilisRose   
Author email: AquilisRose@antisocial.com mailto:AquilisRose@antisocial.com  
Category: General  
Sub Category: Romance  
Keywords: Nicole Harry Draco Ruby Raven  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, FB, QTTA  
Summary: The third, and final, book in the Nicole Stevens series. Nicole is now confronted with dark reminders of the danger of love, the pain of betrayal, and the sorrow of friendship. Will she proudly make it through the confrontation, or will it defeat her?  
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.   
Author notes: Thanks to everyone who made this story possible. I love all of you.  
  
A big thank-you to the Moderators and Coders.  
  
Avril Lavigne rocks!  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Nicole Stevens: Dragons and Deceit  
AquilisRose  
The dragon lay before the entrance,  
She knew at once that they had been deceived.  
For at one time the creature would have been a friend,  
But now she knew that her hope was at an end.  
Chapter One: Rubies and a Raven  
It was very unlike me to leave my homework for last, yet this summer had been full of procrastination. I had put off writing to Draco; I did not desire an explosion rather like Mount Saint Helens as it spewed fiery lava over the land. I had delayed doing my homework, not for the mere pleasure of doing so, as most teenagers would, but because I had been preoccupied. My preoccupation, however, was not one that my professors would be likely to accept.  
It was late July, and school was scheduled to begin in a month. I liked my school, but I presently had no burning desire to return. Though Hogwarts was profoundly interesting, I would have much preferred if there was more time in the summer holidays.  
Today was the thirty-first of July, my boyfriend's birthday. He was staying at my home for the summer, as it was a much more enjoyable place to spend the summer than the Dursley home, of Number Four, Privet Drive. My boyfriend was unusual in many ways; first off, he was quite tall, verging on six feet; secondly, his hair was untidy and slightly long, even though I had cut it for him less than a week ago; and third, my boyfriend had a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Of all the interesting things about him, his scar was by far the most unusual. It was a souvenir of a terrible curse that had been bestowed upon him when he was only a year old, but, because of his mother's love, he escaped with only the scar, a reminder of his past and his dead parents, who had been killed by Lord Voldemort (a Dark Wizard and one of the most feared wizards in the era), who was also the one who had cursed Harry. The curse had rebounded upon Voldemort, so Voldemort had fled, leaving behind the crying little baby boy: Harry Potter.  
Harry had learnt he was a wizard on his eleventh birthday, and had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under the supervision of Albus Dumbledore. Harry had been schooled at Hogwarts for six years, and the new school year would mark his seventh and final year, at Hogwarts. Needless to say, Harry was quite nervous at the prospect of living life without Hogwarts as his home, but he was also excited, which he had confided to me over the summer.  
I, Nicole Stevens, a witch from America who had lived in Britain for over two years, had only attended Hogwarts in my fifth and sixth years. Previous to Hogwarts, I had gone to Wendlyn's Academy of Witchcraft for the first four years of my student life.  
Last year, Harry and I had been in our sixth year, and we ad been having trouble with our relationship. There had been a Dark Wizard (Tom Riddle, a former Hogwarts student who had grown up to be Lord Voldemort) running loose around the school grounds. I had been sold to Voldemort by one of my friends, and at that time boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. He had been apologetic afterwards, but I truly had wished to be with someone who hadn't almost gotten me killed. Draco and his father kidnapped me and took me to their home, where Riddle and Voldemort were anticipating my arrival. Once there, I had been deceived, betrayed, and thrown into a dungeon, which I disliked heartily. Harry had rescued me, killing Tom Riddle and saving the world once again.  
This summer was turning out well, but I had a feeling that it would only go downhill from here. Things in my life had a way of turning out how you least expected them to; unless, of course, you had suspected that Draco had sold me to Voldemort for the second time, and then imagined the time when I would revert back to dating Harry, which I highly doubt you did. Even I had not expected that to happen. So, while Harry was not out fighting evil dark overlords, we spent as much time together as possible. It was a good situation, and I found myself sleeping well, with the absence of my dreams, which usually foretold great misfortune. I suspected that the dreams would begin again soon, even though every night I fell asleep with Harry's arm wrapped protectively around me.  
At the moment, I was doing something any normal teen would do when she was bored. I was reading. Okay, maybe that's not as common at I thought.  
My selection for this week's reading was Magical Me. Oddly enough, Harry had known the author (Gilderoy Lockhart) in his second year at Hogwarts, and Lockhart had been his Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Also, Lockhart had been a fake, taking credit for what other wizards had done. But, when Lockhart accidentally cast a memory charm on himself, he'd had to go and piece together his life, trying to remember who he was. After his travels, he had only come up with two things: his name was Gilderoy Lockhart, and he was an author. Lockhart then had written Who Am I? an autobiography I also happened to own.  
The Banshee was particularly violent. It lunged at me, tearing teeth and nail to snatch my wand from my hand. I managed to throw the horrible creature off me, and cast a basic Sleeping Spell on it. I escaped with nothing but a scratch, and--luckily--had no other injuries.   
I snorted, remembering that Harry had called Lockhart 'a miserable old fake who couldn't cast a Lumos charm to light his way in broad daylight, and he wouldn't have even thought that he didn't need a charm because it was already bright.' It seemed like Harry disliked Gilderoy Lockhart, and from the stories I have heard about him, I wouldn't blame anyone for hating him.  
Werewolves are violent creatures, who are animals even when in their human form. They should be approached only by a trained professional, such as myself. To defeat a werewolf takes courage, knowledge, and a certain charming air. I have defeated many werewolves in my career, and though I have escaped unharmed, many other have not. Obviously, I have the things needed to hunt werewolves.  
"He didn't have any of those things," Harry said from behind me. He had been reading over my shoulder.  
"It makes him sound like some great hero. I can't believe he didn't do all of this. How could he have known about exactly what happened if he didn't do it?"  
"He asked the people who had actually done the things, and then memory charmed them. Not very kind, but I really don't think Lockhart cared about compassion."  
"Apparently not." I set the book on the coffee table, as Harry came to sit beside me on the living room couch. "So, what've you been up to?"  
"Flying," he replied.  
"Mentally or on a broom?" I joked.  
"Both. Are we going out to dinner tonight, or not? I was wondering if you had decided yet."  
"Yeah, I'd like to go to dinner. Where are we going? A Muggle restaurant?"  
"Possibly, but it really depends on what you want."  
"Harry, it's your birthday. You get to choose, for once."  
"I say we go somewhere I won't be recognised," he said. "That means we're going Muggle. Do you know any good places?"  
"No. My father is really the one to ask about things like that. He's fascinated with Muggle wine, and if you want to find the place with the best wine, ask him."  
"I don't drink wine."  
"Then don't ask him. Ask my mother."  
"I'll just do that, then," he said, kissing my cheek and standing. "I'll be right back in a second." He strode into the kitchen, where my mother was humming and packing a lunch for the picnic Harry and I had planned. I heard Harry questioning my mother about the best Muggle place for dinner; she answered him with a long list of restaurants that we might like. The scratching of a quill made me laugh; Harry was copying down the list. Five minutes later, Harry returned to the living room, carrying our lunch in a basket (and what looked like three sheets of paper containing the names of restaurants.)  
"So, have you decided on a place?" I asked Harry, laughing.  
"Not quite," he answered. "Come on, let's go."  
We headed out to the little grove of trees my family owned. Last year, a few of the trees had almost died of a magical poisoning, but now they were much healthier--flourishing, even. As we neared the trees, I heard the crowing of a raven. Looking over the canopy of the trees, I saw a large black bird swoop down through the leaves of my willow.  
"Did you see that bird?" I asked incredulously. "It was enormous!"  
"Yeah," Harry replied. "I didn't know you had crows around here. In fact, I've never seen one near the trees."  
"Neither have I. Odd." We stepped under the shelter of trees, and I immediately began straining my eyes to find the bird again, but it had disappeared. We continued until we reached a small alcove of trees where a solitary blue willow stood in the centre, with an oak and a beech tree near it. Harry took my hand and led me over to the willow, where he deposited the lunch basket and unfolded the small blanket and spread it out over the ground. I sat on the blanket, leaning back against the trunk of the willow, and Harry sat across from me. I passed him a sandwich and a bottled of water. He stuffed half of the sandwich in his mouth at one time and chewed quickly.  
"Harry, don't choke yourself; we have plenty of time to eat."  
"I know," he said through his second bite of the sandwich. "But I--" he swallowed and took another bite, "--I wanted to show you something I found the other day when I was walking in the forest. I've just now remembered about it."  
"Harry, it's okay. I'm sure whatever it is will still be there in ten minutes." I unwrapped my sandwich, taking a small bite. It was ham and mayonnaise--gross. Disgusting. I hated mayonnaise. "You want my sandwich Harry?" I asked, holding it out to him. He shook his head and took another swig of water. I rewrapped the food and threw it back into the basket. There was a package of crackers inside, and I decided to eat those instead, but Harry had finished eating his sandwich. He jumped up, grabbing my hand as I reached out for the crackers and pulling me past the willow. He led me through the trees into the denser part of the little forest. A few metres behind the willow was what seemed to be a small pond. More like a large puddle.  
"Come this way," Harry took me to the water's edge and kneeled in the mud. I followed his example and Harry said, "Look." He was pointing at the surface of the water. I looked at it, and found myself staring at my reflection. But this was not the person I had seen in my mirror this morning--I was older in the water. My hair was golden, and it stretched far down my spine. My face was more mature, and my cheekbones were defined more. I turned my eyes to Harry's reflection--he was older looking too. His hair was longer, his green eyes darker. Harry's usually pale skin was even whiter; almost translucent. A small scar ran along the neck of Harry's reflection. I looked at Harry crouching beside me; the scar wasn't on his neck now. That meant that this mirror not only showed our aged images, but also the future, in a sense. I returned my gaze to the water.  
I wanted to test my theory. I waved my hand at my reflection. My skin was slightly wrinkled, and a gold ring glittered on my ring finger--it was a wedding ring, I had no doubt. I turned over my hand, seeing in the reflection that the stone set in the gold band was a large diamond.  
"Cool, eh?" Harry said.  
"Yeah," my reply was distracted. Through the water I saw a large hole; a tunnel, it seemed. "Harry, take my ring," I said. I raised my right hand and removed the ring Harry had given me last Christmas. The pearl shone from the band. Harry took the ring.  
"What are you going to do?"  
"Watch," I said, plunging my hand deep into the centre of the pond; straight into the hole. My hand met nothing but water as I leaned further and further into the water. Then I lost my balance, toppling into the water, and sinking down into the hole. I tried to swim back upwards, but there was some sort of suction that was pulling me deeper. I kicked, but kept going further down. My feet hit the bottom of the pit, and I felt blindly through the darkness, my fingers travelling over the rock walls around me. I was running out of air. I needed to get back up, but I couldn't. My fingers contacted something cool: metal. It was a knob of some sort. I twisted the knob, and a large portion of the rock wall moved inward. A door. Water flowed through the door, there was a room full of air beyond it. I swam into the airy room, and found myself staring around me at the walls of the circular room. The walls were encrusted with jewels; rubies, diamonds, sapphires, and many others. I slammed the door shut behind me to keep the room from becoming more flooded. There was light coming from somewhere. As I glanced at the ceiling, I saw tiny pinpricks of light coming through the rock and reflecting of the jewelled walls.  
In the centre of the room, a pedestal stood, and on it, a large red stone glittered on a silver chain. I stepped toward it, before I heard the door opening. I spun around, as Harry came into the room. He closed the door behind him, making his way through the ankle deep water toward me.  
"What is this place?" he asked, breathing roughly.  
"I don't know."  
"What happened to you?"  
"I fell into the water, and was sucked down the tunnel. I found the door and came in."  
"Are you okay?"  
"Yeah."  
"Look at the walls," he whispered in awe, staring around him. "These are jewels."  
"I had noticed. Listen Harry, how are we going to get out of here?"  
"Swim back up, of course. It's only about fifteen feet."  
"I don't know. Maybe there's another way. I don't feel like swimming. I'm wondering how this water got here, and where it came from. And this room, wow. I mean, how often do you find someplace like this?"  
"At your house," Harry teased, "it's pretty often. But I don't think there's another way out."  
"There must be," I said. "See the water?" I pointed at the floor, where the water was lowly draining. "It's got to be going somewhere. I mean, it can just be disappearing, can it?"  
"Maybe the jewels soak it up, or something. Or, maybe the water flows out through some little cracks in the ground. Either way, it doesn't provide a way out for us."  
"True, but I still want to check." I went closer to the ruby necklace on the pedestal. It was so beautiful. The stone glittered, its many facets reflecting the dim light astoundingly. I reached out to touch it, my fingers contacted the chain as Harry moved around the room, feeling along the walls for another door. I picked up the ruby. It couldn't hurt to take it, could it? Surely no one had been down here in years. I'd just keep it, and no one would mind. I slipped the necklace into my pocket.  
"Hey, Nicole! I found another door. Let's see where it leads." I turned around, sloshing over to Harry in my wet shoes. He took my hand and opened the door he had found. Behind this door was a dark passageway with ankle deep water on the floor. Harry went first, and we went down the passage. After a few moments, the ground began sloping upwards slightly. We continued walking, and in moments, a rush of cool air greeted us. There was light ahead, and we entered into a cave. It was a few seconds before we had finally come completely out of the cave, but once we had, I wondered if we should go back. I had no idea where we were.  
"Harry, do you know where we are, by any chance?"  
"Not really, but--we were heading east while we were going through the door, and I think we kept going that way. So, if we head southeast, then that should bring us somewhere ear your house."  
"Right. Let's just do what you said." He nodded and pointed in the direction we should take. Shivering, we began trudging southeast.  
After ten minutes of walking, we finally came to a place I knew. It was behind my house, where the forest ended. Harry realised this too, and so we began to head back to our picnic spot. My feet were soaked with water, as were Harry's. We were completely drenched, and the warm breeze only served to make us colder. But, soon we were within the cover of the trees. It took us very little time to return to the willow tree. Harry tossed the remnants of lunch into the basket, and grabbed the blanket.  
"Here," he wrapped the blanket around my shoulders.  
"Thanks, Harry."  
"No problem, let's--"  
"Are you Harry Potter?" a hoarse voice asked croakily from the willow branch above our heads.  
We looked up to see a gigantic raven sitting in the tree. It was definitely the same raven from earlier.  
"Why do you ask?" Harry questioned.  
"I have a message for a Mister Harry James Potter," the raven said.  
"How do you know my middle name?"  
"Do not ask questions. I am here only to deliver a message. I ask you again, are you Harry James Potter?"  
"Yes, I am."  
"Then here is the message--Mister Potter, beware. Evil things are going to happen, may be happening already. Watch your back, and be suspicious of those you trust. Believe no one, for they may be lying." The raven cawed one time.  
"Who sends me this message?" Harry asked.  
"A friend."  
"Who are you?"  
"I am Ravarot, the Prophet and Message Carrier of Darkness."  
"Why should I trust you?"  
Ravarot crowed angrily and flapped his wings in fury. "Are you questioning me?"  
Harry shook his head. "Tell my 'friend' that if he really wants me to trust what he says, then he should deliver his own messages."  
Ravarot flew to the ground; his beak was as high as Harry's waist. The raven stretched its legs, causing it to become a foot taller. "Are you threatening him?"  
"So he's a man, then. No, I'm not threatening him. I'm saying that I won't trust the message until it is delivered by whoever sends it."  
"I will deliver your message," Ravarot said. He took off, soaring up through the canopy of leaves. Harry and I looked at each other.  
"Well, that was different," I said.  
"Tell me about it. Let's go inside before a toucan comes and tells me that I need to go have a party with a bunch of Death Eaters." We went inside, both pondering Ravarot's message. Who had sent the raven? Was the message a hoax? We wouldn't know until we met the sender of the message. 


	2. Chapter Two

Harry and I had dinner at a French restaraunt in Diagon Alley. Afterwards, we headed back to my house.  
We arrived to an empty house, and no lights shone from any of the rooms.  
"They've deserted us," I said, referring to my parents.  
"It would seem so."  
I reached out a hand to turn on the light in the living room, but Harry gently pulled my hand away. "What if we just...don't turn the lights on yet. Would that bother you--" he paused, "Because if you don't like having them off, then I'll turn them on."  
A faint smile appeared on his face when I shrugged. "I don't mind it."  
"Well...I just...was thinking."  
"You seem to do a lot of that."  
"Of what?"   
"Thinking."  
"Mm...right," he replied.  
"So what do you want to do?"  
Harry reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of my face, letting his finger drag lightly across my cheek as he tucked my hair behind my ear. His breathing was soft, but it was getting harsher as he let his hand linger on my cheek. I closed my eyes, allowing him to lift my chin.  
"I--" Harry began. "I love you."  
Corniest line in the world.  
Shut up, I thought at the voice in my head. It sounded familiar...  
"I know; I love you too."  
Harry smiled a little, pulling me closer. He bent and let his lips brush lightly over mine. I touched his cheek, before sliding my hand down to his chest. Kissing me more roughly than before, Harry started manoeuvering me towards the couch. His lips locked on mine, and I made a muffled comment.  
"Mmprhg...Hmph. Hmnmph. Uph."  
Harry pulled away from me slightly. "What?"  
"Not--here--no. Can't can't can't..." I stuttered.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I'm not ready."  
Harry frowned, asking, "Why?"  
"Because I'm not, that's why!" I snapped.  
He looked hurt. "All right. If that's how you feel."  
"I said it didn't I?" I retorted.  
"Okay," Harry replied. "Whatever. I'm going to bed, then. Obviously you're not in the mood to explain." He left, retreating into the room across from my bedroom.  
I threw myself on the couch. Why had I done that? Why had I acted that way? Was I being unreasonably bitchy?  
No, the voice in my head replied. He was trying to get you to have sex with him when you aren't ready for it. What you did was right. Besides, you were going to do it on the couch.  
Oh shut up already.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
Lucius shoved Draco back into the stone wall, holding Draco by the shoulders. Lucius was glaring intensely at his son.  
"What did you think you were doing?" Lucius hissed. "You spoke without my permission. Have I not properly drilled the rules into your thick head? When I am meeting with my colleages, you do not speak unless I say so. You do only as I say. Punishment equals obedience--have I not taught you that as well? Speak up, boy. Tell me what I have done to have been cursed with such a fool of a son. Tell me if I have not told you the rules correctly. And while you are telling me all these things, also mention if I should punish you. I would be delighted to hear what you think on the matter." He sounded sarcastic--a faint edge of the kind of sarcasm that I heard so often from Draco.  
"No, Father, you have done nothing to warrant my behaviour. I acted rashly, which I regret."  
"Oh, you will regret it; I will see to that." Lucius pulled Draco forward from the wall and slammed his head back into it. "Now tell me what punishment is warranted for this type of rulebreaking."  
"None, Father," Draco answered, as a trickle of blood dripped down his neck.   
Lucius sneered, "Is that so?"  
"Yes, Father, it is so."  
"I think not," replied Lucius. And with that, he tugged Draco away from the wall and hauled him down the long stone corridor.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
I woke in the morning with a mild headache. Probably from crying...I felt so guilty for turning Harry down like that, and then not explaining why I had done it. But what would my explanation have been? Oh, sorry, a little voice in my head is making fun of everything you say. As if. He would think I'm even crazier than I act. Wonderful. Just the affect I want.   
I groaned as I realised that I had to go shopping for school supplies today. That meant that I would probably see Draco--a.k.a. Mount St. Helens...or he would be when he saw me. And then, if I was especially unlucky, his father. Oh, his father was bad. Bad with a capital B. Bad. As in not good at all! Hey, but I might get lucky and not see them at all.   
And it's not like I have no luck--don't get me wrong--I have plenty of luck, it's just that all of it is bad.  
Dressing plainly, I went out into the hall between my room and Harry's. The door was closed. I quietly tiptoed over to it, and turned the handle as quietly as I could. It was locked. Figures. After what I did...well, I couldn't blame him.   
"Nicole," I jumped, spinning around and slamming my back against the door. There went cool.  
"Harry, I was just--just...oh screw it. I was seeing if you were awake so we could talk about last night."  
"Yeah, look--"  
"I'm--"  
"Really sorry," Harry said.  
I gaped. "Why?"  
"Well, I should have asked you first and not just...that was wrong of me, and I apologize."  
"I'm sorry too. The only reason I...I just wasn't expecting it." Harry nodded and took my hand.  
"Next time--if there is a next time--I'll be sure to consult you before I make a move."  
"Okay. Anyways, we need to get to Diagon Alley. We still haven't gotten all our school stuff..."  
"Right. Why don't you go tell your parents and I'll meet you in the living room?"  
"I'll go do that." I grabbed my wand and stuck it in my pocket, before running to the kitched to tell my parents where I was going. Then I headed into the living room.  
Harry took a pot from the mantlepiece and cast some of the fine powder into the fireplace. A green fire sprung up in the grate, and Harry gestured for me to step inside. And then I was whooshed away.  
I stepped into the bookshop, surveying the many tomes on the shelves around me. Harry followed, going immediately to the desk where an ancient wizard was reading a book that look almost as old as he did. Harry began naming the books we needed for school, and I nodded at him.  
'I'm going to get the rest,' I mouthed at him. He nodded and continued with his list.  
Turning around, I headed outside into the busy street.  
And suddenly I stopped. Not because I was about to trip over something--but because, at that moment, I saw someone who I had never thought to worry about again.  
It was Tom. Not Tom Cruise, not Tom What's-His-Name from school--Tom Riddle. He was in the doorway of a shady-looking shop, leaning against the doorframe. His hair was being swept across his forehead by the wind. And his dark blue eyes were scanning the crowd lazily. I knew that he would find me if I ducked back into the shop. So I did the only think I could think of.   
I whimpered, and hurried into a shop that seemed to be an anti-Tom store--a broom shop. Adults and children were milling around the room, examing the expensive Firebolts. My first thought was to go to the back of the shop and hide, but I knew that someone would notice me. So, I headed to the Nimbus section and pretended to be interested in buying one.  
"Those are outdated, you know," a voice said behind me.  
I turned around, facing the pale-haired boy. "Somnus. Why didn't I guess--and yes, by the way, I do know that the Nimbus is outdated. I'm just...doing a research report on it." Somnus raised his eyebrows. "A report for my flying class. Madam Hooch assigned us homework over the summer. We had to examine a broom."  
He nodded, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Of course she did."  
"So, anyways, what are you doing in England? Did France get to boring for you?"  
"Not really; I'm just watching out for my sisters. Lucius assigned this as my 'job' for a while. Draco wouldn't do it. He even managed to shake Jade off by saying that he had broken his wrist--actually, come to think of it, he did break his wrist. Just as Jade was coming up to him."  
I laughed, but Somnus stared at me blankly.  
"Oh. You're not joking."  
"No, Draco's really that desperate."  
"Right. Well, where's Jade then?"  
Somnus pointed out the window, where a girl with silvery hair was standing, waving wildly at us.   
Great, I thought.  
She came in, pushing through the crowd to get to us. "Hello! Nicole, how are you? I'm very well, except that Draco seems to be avoiding me. I just saw him--"  
"Wait, Draco's here?" I turned to Somnus, "You didn't say that Draco was here!"  
"No," Somnus smirked, "I merely said that he didn't have to look after Jade and Annaliese. He came with his father."  
"Oh, now you tell me. Great. Just great. Now I have two--no three people to watch out for!"  
"And who would they be?"  
"Lucius, Draco, and...someone else." I stopped just before I siad Tom's name.  
"Whatever."  
"Now I'm going. Bye, Somnus. See you later, Jade."  
"Okay," Jade replied happily, oblivious to the conversation between her brother and me.  
I had to get some new aquaintances.  
I was dicreet as I stepped out of the shop. Anyone who saw me would probably attract someone's attention. And with my luck, I was not taking any chances.   
"Nicole!" a voice called my name. Harry.   
I dove into the alleyway, and waited for a few seconds before Harry could make his way over to me.   
"Nicole--what were you doing? Why did you run?"  
"I...someone pushed me. You finished? Great. Let's go. I can shop some other time, honestly. It's no big deal. Let's go."  
"No, we still need to get Potions' supplies. So come on." He took my hand and smiled at me. "What's wrong?"   
"Nothing."  
He nodded and led me through the dense crowd. I kept a sharp eye out for Tom or the Malfoys, but, to my relief, I had no sight of them, though I did see some Hogwarts students.  
In the potions store it smelled faintly of rotting fruit and other things that were rather unpleasant to think of. Harry was quick in searching out the supplies, and I could tell that he was as eager as I was to get out of the sickly smelling store. As Harry collected the ingredients, the bell over the door tinkled like a chime. I turned around, and saw the boy I had been desperately worried about confronting. Draco Malfoy.  
He was wearing dark trousers and a grey turtleneck that looked rather uncomfortable. Around his shoulders was a heavy velvet cloak with the ever-unpleasant Malfoy crest embroidered on the shoulder. His dark grey eyes swept across the dimly lit room. And then he saw me. I watched--almost in horror--as his eyes suddenly glimmered.   
His father followed in after him, also casting a lazy glance around the room. Draco whispered something to his father, which caused Lucius' eyes to narrow. but he finally gave his consent with a quick nod of his head. Draco smirked and slowly came towards me. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a suspicious look.  
"If it isn't my favorite Gryffindor," he hissed sarcastically.  
"Malfoy," I greeted warily. I could almost hear him think, I really liked 'Draco' better.  
"How've you been? I hope no more Death Eaters have assaulted you over your summer break."  
"Well, your concern is just heartening. And I've been fine. The only problems I've had with Death Eaters is the reminder that I once consented to becoming one."  
"Ah, well. That does sound like a personal problem."  
"It is. Now, if you would please tell me why I saw Riddle out in the street, I would be much obliged."  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Riddle? Hm...I had no notion that he had returned. Oh, I suppose it just means that you'll have to be a bit more careful when you walk around Diagon Alley."  
"Thank you ever so much, Malfoy. You've been so much help." I glanced back at Harry, who, in his hurry to exit the store, had not noticed Draco's entrance. "Now I suppose I must get back to enjoying my summer. Well, enjoying it as much as I ever do."  
Draco smirked and turned around, going into the back room that his father had dissapeared into. I shivered. As much as I hated to admit it, Lucius gave me the creeps. Even being in the same room as him had given me chills.  
Harry was at the counter, paying for our supplies. I went up to him and asked, "Did you hear that?"  
"Malfoy? Yes I heard it. You saw Riddle? That's impossible--I got rid of him."  
"Well, apparently not. Anyways, let's go. I don't want to see them again."  
Harry nodded and we went out, heading to the Leaky Cauldron so we could return home.  
-----------------  
I stepped onto the train, the steam clouding the air. The train's whistle rang loudly, and I smiled inwardly. I was on my way back to Hogwarts. Even though I was not fond of most of my teachers, I was almost looking forward to being back in the big castle by the lake.  
I went to find an empty compartment where I could enjoy what was left of my summer. At least there was a better chance of enjoying myself if I wasn't in danger of being harrassed by hateful Slytherins...  
Empty compartments were few and far between, but I finally managed to find one at the back of the train. Harry was probably sitting with Hermione and Ron, but that didn't bother me. After all, we'd spent the entire summer together, and Harry hadn't seen his best friends since school let out, although they had been owling each other. And plus, I was desperately longing for some "alone time."  
I plopped down on the seat and took a few seconds to enjoy the silence. Silence. Utter, indefinite silence. Which was, of course, broken almost immediately by the sound of two deep voices that were, as far as I could make out, using grunts to communicate. Oh, right. The two boulders--Crabbe and Goyle. Or Grabbe and Coyle, as I liked to think.  
So much for silence. I stood and tiptoed over to the compartment door, shutting it as quietly as I could. I didn't want to take any chances; Crabbe and Goyle usually accompanied Draco. And Draco was still on my "People I Want to Avoid" list.  
I sat back down, trying to get back to my state of utter silence.  
But all of a sudden, the relative silence was broken with a loud crash as my door was suddenly shattered to pieces in a flash of red and green light. I stared in horrow at the remains of the door, which were strewn over the floor. Then my gaze was drawn to the girl standing before my door. She had long, black hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her chest. Her attire was a skimpy black dress, with a heavy velvet cloak. She had her hand outstretched, with one finger poised as if to touch my door--or where it had been. Her other hand was wrapped around something, something silver, and a piece of parchment. The expression she wore was something that told me she was not someone to mess with. Her eyes glittered darkly.   
The girl--she looked my age--lowered her hand and delicately stepped into my compartment.  
"Who are you?" I asked, glad that my voice partially masked my fear.  
"Who I am is not important. You will find out eventually. I have seen it."  
"Of course you have. Why are you here?"  
"I am here to deliver this." She came to me and gently handed me the parchment and the silver item she had been holding. "Read that," she gestured at the parchment, "and wear that." Upon closer inspection I found that the silver thing was a bracelet.  
Then she turned to leave.  
"Wait! Who are you?"  
"Lelileyvantadurianudu. Inulariaduliwadulaliley," she said, giving me a bright smile. "I told you that you'd find out. But not yet."  
And with that, she dissapeared in a cloud of fragrant black fog. 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Almost the second after she left, Draco peered in through the gap where the door had been. It took him a few moments to process the scene, and then he said in a lazy voice, "You blew up the door."  
"I did not," I said. "It was that girl."  
"Girl? What girl?"  
"She just left. She had black hair and a black dress."  
He shrugged, "Whatever you say." He paused for a moment. "Are you okay?"  
"I'm just fine."  
"Oh, well..." he took out his want and directed it at the pieces of the door.  
"No, don't. I'll fix it."  
"All right."  
There was an awkward pause, in which we both looked anywhere but at each other. Draco kept his eyes firmly on the floor, and I looked at a spot over his head. Finally he broke the silence.  
"Well. I'll just be going now. I hope you can manage to repair that door."  
I nodded, and just as he turned to leave, I asked a sudden question. "What did it feel like?"  
"What did WHAT feel like?" he returned, without turning to face me.  
"What did it feel like, when you realised that I was with Harry, even after I said that I love you--loved you?"  
He kept his back to me. "It felt like you had driven a knife through my heart." Then he turned around, "And tell me, how did it feel to do that to me?"  
"It felt cold."  
He nodded curtly and left me with my thoughts. And the letter.  
I opened it and read the message quickly.  
The candle in the rain  
Will be put out.  
The candle's owner would do well  
To put it back inside.  
I stared at the message. What did it mean? Well, I knew that if it meant nothing else, it meant trouble. And I was not looking for trouble. Not yet.  
------------  
  
The food at the banquet was rich and heavy, and tasted extremely good. Much better than the summer snacks I had eaten for the entire holidays. I laughed at the jokes between Harry and Ron, and silently snickered at Hermione as she scolded them for the dirty jokes. After all, she was Head Girl, and thus must keep order. But with Harry and Ron--well, I doubted that she could say or do much that would scare them.  
During the Sorting I had not been attentive, even though I knew most of their older siblings. It was almost like I had come home after a long absence...even though Hogwarts was not my home. Well, not really anyways. Not like it was for Harry. He didn't have the kind of home that I had. I had my parents, while Harry, on the other hand, had only the Dursleys. Well--there were not many pros to his situation.  
Everyone around me was laughing and chattering, happy to be back amongst their fellows. I was happy too, though not as much as I would have expected. This time around, I had a stable boyfriend, pure confidance, and the knowledge that this was my last year as a student. Why shouldn't I be happy for myself? Why did it feel like there was a dark cloud hanging over my head?  
Because there was.  
That girl from the train still bothered me. Who was she? Why had she given me the bracelet and note? What was the language she had spoke? I would not know until we met again...So I wanted to see her again, but I didn't. Oh, great. Just what I needed. Another evil demon out to get my soul--or maybe she wasn't. But, that too would have to wait until she reappeared. And something told me that I would not have long to wait...  
The people around me were standing up, jostling to get out the doors. I could see people stretching and yawning, the warm food easing their mind off school and onto the warm beds they would soon be crawling into. And I could not help thinking about MY warm, cozy bed...with its fluffly down pillows and heavy velvet covers. Ah...  
"Nicole? You coming?" Ron's voice brought me out of my fantasy of warm beds.  
"Oh, yeah, sure." I drained my glass and followed after Ron and Harry, who were following Hermione towards the door. I pushed my way through the crowd of students, slowly but surely getting closer and closer to the door. Finally, I managed to catched up to the trio, just as they headed out into the hall.  
Harry smiled and wrapped his arm comfortingly around my waist. "You sure didn't talk much this evening," he whispered into my ear. It was almost a question--as if he wanted an explanation.  
"I was just...distracted. My mind was on the food and drink rather than socialising."  
It wasn't a lie...it was just not the full truth.  
"Ah...are you tired? It's been a long day."  
He had NO idea--I hadn't told him about the train-girl. "Yes, it sure has," I replied, walking a bit faster so he wouldn't have to slow down. "I can't wait until I get to crawl into my warm bed and sleep."  
He nodded, grinning gently. "I know. I'm exhausted too. And classes start tomorrow, so...You can count on a ton of homework."  
"And don't I know it. I bet they'll bog us down so much that we won't be able to carry our backpacks. At least I won't be able to."  
"Well, I'll carry it for you."  
Harry Potter--the gentleman, as always. Or, as Malfoy had once said, 'The-Boy-Who-Lives-to-Save-Girls-From-Guys-Like-Me.' He was right. Harry was a true gentleman. But a little respect went a long way. Which was probably why every girl who ever dated Harry would give their life to go out with him again. Fortunately for me though, I didn't have that problem. Harry was mine--heart, body, and soul. Well, I hoped he was, anyway...But it was no time to worry about silly things like that. I had more important matters to concern myself with. Like remembering the password to Griffindor Tower, which Hermione had just stopped in front of.  
She said the password and led us inside. Harry came with me to the stairs up to my dorm and kissed me on the cheek. "G'night," he said.   
"You too," and I smiled and headed up to bed.  
-------------  
Lucius took Draco into a dark room. Then Lucius snapped his fingers, and a fire sprung to life in the grate.  
"I would rather do this in the light," he hissed, his voice full of deadly venom.  
The room was decorated with lush velvet everywhere. But on the walls--the walls had weapons hanging from them. There were whips of all kinds--spiked, leather, thin metal. Swords, too. Rapiers, swords with thick hilts and sharp edges. All sorts of instruments designed for only one purpose.  
Pain.  
Lucius strode to the wall, surveying it. The wall of whips. His fingers brushed--almost lovingly--over the handles of the whips. His fingernails made a faint scraping noise on the stone of the wall. And then he stopped. He had found the whip he wanted.   
It was leather--black, with a leather-covered wood handle. Lucius gently took it from the wall. He held it in his hands, looking it over to check if it would do what he wanted. Draco stood a few steps away from his father, not standing perfectly straight, and with a blank look on his face. His eyes were pale, almost white from fear. He seemed petrified with fear. Draco never even blinked.  
Lucius slowly turned around, his expression menacing.  
"Stand straight, boy. Do you wish to appear meagre, a mere weakling?"   
Draco stood to his full height, barely shorter than Lucius.  
"Very well. Now, before I begin, I would like an explanation. Why would you do such a thing--such a damaging thing--to my reputation? If it is some mistake of mine, tell me now and save yourself a great deal of pain. If it was because of my actions that you did this, speak up now."  
"Father," Draco began, his voice showing little of his fear. "I spoke because I believed that what I said was important to the matter at hand. I would have asked you for permission to speak, if only I had thought before I spoke. But, as far as I could tell, my statement had no impact on the meeting. Everyone seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, and none of them thought any the worse of you. Though, I doubt that they took my proposal seriously. It is no fault of yours, and no fault of your intelligence. It is, in my opinion, a fault of the human mind. Speaking comes naturally, and thus, it is not uncommon that, on occasion, someone will speak out of turn. I do regret my actions, though I curse not myself but the mind of humans. Your colleagues were speaking of a matter that you have very properly schooled me in, and I simply thought of nothing but of what you had taught me. I thought also that it might further your colleagues' opinion of you, firstly, and me, secondly."  
Lucius stood for a moment, seeminly pondering what his son had said. It barely made sense. But punishment--did Draco deserve punishment? For his actions, he certainly did. But his reasoning behind it was not something consequence-worthy.  
"I have heard what you said, and I believe that I do understand. You blame this, not on myself or you, but on the mind. And yet you claim to have thought that what you said would further my status? Explain how you might think, and yet not think. I would be delighted to hear your answer."  
Draco nodded. "My goal, Father, is always to further your reputation, in all situations, which is why I was thinking of that and nothing else. Excuse my wording before, Father. I might have made myself or my point unclear. I was hoping to furthur your reputation, but I was not thinking of consequences."  
Lucius nodded at Draco's words, running his finger along the whip's handle.  
"I suppose that makes sense."  
----------------  
I woke to a shrill alarm at six in the morning. It beeped insistently, and I opened my eyes. The blurry, red numbers read '6:01--Get up you lazy girl.' I scowled at it, growling a few curses before dressing in my uniform. The snores of my dormmates were muffled by their pillows and blankets--they didn't have the same agenda as I had.  
First, I've got to go to the library. Maybe I can find something on that language the girl spoke. What was it she said? Lay lily van tadu ree ann oo doo. In oo la ria doo lee wah dula lily. Or something like that...It sounded like a spell--but what would it have been about?!  
I grabbed my bag and jogged down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as I could.   
Pushing open the portrait, I glanced around the halls and continued on my way down to the library. There was reason to be careful--if someone saw me walking around the halls, carrying my books, almost two hours before class, surely people's suspicions would be aroused. After all, I was known for meeting with Death Eaters and other dark creatures, though no one would ever guess the extent of these meetings. Luckily for me.  
Reaching the library, I stepped inside, looking around at all of the shelves of books. Madam Pince, the librarian, had already been here and was probably in one of the back rooms sorting new and extremely old books. That thought triggered something inside my head--EXTREMELY old books. Just what I would need. Ancient languages were most likely to be discussed in ancient scrolls or books. If I could only find someone who might be able to translate the books. I knew that it was highly unlikely that any were written in English. And I was only fluent in two languages--Enlish and Girl-Speak (or as men might think of it, 'Yeah, she was totally crushing on this one guy and he was totally not picking up the vibe--so I told her, "You need to get some moves in on this guy, not just pink nail-polish and great smelling hair. I mean, the serious stuff, like Dolce and Gabana."') Well, I knew some sparse French, though a couple of years ago I had thought myself very well-schooled in the French language. Then I heard French people speak, and the only thing I understood was 'yes'.   
Draco could probably translate it. His father had made sure that he could speak many languages. Ancient as well as modern. But no, I could never ask him. Not now. Not ever. And especially not since I had been kidnapped twice, thanks to him, and dumped him at least twice that amount. No, asking him was definately not an option. Unless I just happened to say something about it to Harry as Draco was walking by, but not if he heard and didn't offer to help.   
NO! I thought fiercely. I can NOT even think of doing that.  
So my resolve was set. I would not ask him, or take his help. Unless he offered.  
No!  
All right, now I was serious. I was really NOT going to ask him. So there.  
-----------  
After searching for half an hour with no luck, I finally gave it up for the day and headed to breakfast. I saw a few early-risers who were also going towards the great hall. They all looked to be Prefects. When that thought had finished sinking in, I paused for a moment. Prefects.  
Draco was a Prefect. Actually, I had heard the vague rumour that he was Head Boy. But I doubted the validity of these claims, since Draco had been known to cause fights monthly. Anyways, whether or not he was Head Boy, it had absolutely nothing to do with me. Nothing whatsoever.  
If my resolve was as strong as I'd thought, it was not enough to stop me from waiting near the doors of the Great Hall. My hope was that Draco would approach me, instead of me going to him, asking for help. It would be better for me if it happened like that, but if it didn't happen as I hoped, then I would risk being seen talking to him. Okay.   
So I waited, sitting on the bottom stair of the enormous grand staircase, waiting for Draco to come and do who-knows-what to help me. Not that I even really thought that he would. No, I expected he would talk to me, throw a few insults to patch his damaged ego. But other than that--I didn't expect he would do much in the way of helping me.   
If he wouldn't help me, I could always go to someone else. It wasn't like I was hated by the entire school populus. Sure, there were a select few who couldn't stand my presence, but other than that I was generally well-liked.  
After about five minutes, I spotted him coming, not from the corridor that lead to the Slytherin dungeons, but from a separate door. He was glancing around him, as if checking to see if anyone was watching him. And yet he didn't spot me.   
That's odd, I thought as he walked towards the door to the Great Hall, his hair's ruffled. And his cheeks are flushed. What HAS he been doing in there? No, nevermind. I was pretty certain that I didn't need to know.  
I hopped up from my place on the steps, hurrying to catch him before he went into the Great Hall. Coming up behind him, he turned around and looked me straight in the eye. Apparently, he had seen me on the steps, ignored me, and then heard my footsteps.  
"Stevens, what do you want and why should I waste my time listening to your answer?"  
I hated the way he said it. My name, in a hurried tone, his usual drawl dropped from his voice. And not "Nicole"--"Stevens." Well, now I knew what he felt like. I supposed thsat was his intention...  
"Draco, I need you to help me with something."  
"And why should I do that?"  
"Because--" I stumbled awkwardly, trying to find an answer before he decided that I wasn't worth his attention. "Because, I don't know of anyone else," I paused thinking about how best to stroke his ego. "I know that no one else has the experience that I'm looking for."  
"Is this a job offer?" his casual drawl was back, a faint smirk toying with the corners of his mouth--something that not many people would have noticed.  
"Not exactly. If you want to be paid to help me, then I will. I was hoping that you could help me translate something, and then maybe teach me a bit of the language."  
"Payment?" a small frown appeared, before he reverted back to his subdued smirk. "What kind of payment?" His eyes glittered playfully. I missed that quality about him--I hadn't seen it for over half a year.  
I let a small smile play gently across my face, "Galleons, sickles, knuts...Muggle money, potions ingredients. I can go quite high in my payment."  
"Hmn..." Draco crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed me from under his lashes. "I could do that. But, what I want is not something you offered?"  
"Oh?" I asked playfully. I laid down my pride and pretended to flirt with him. Touching his arm, I added, "What exactly DO you want, Draco?"  
He smirked, but then he stopped, and his expression became stern. "Stop it. Stop doing that."  
"What?" I kept flirting, gently running my finger up his arm.  
He pulled away, his eyes darkening angrily. "Don't you dare do that. Not again. I won't let you. So either stop the act and say what I want to hear or I'm leaving."  
I looked at the floor, and then closed my eyes. He could always tell when I wasn't telling the truth. And when I flirted, he knew when it was real and when it wasn't. I knew that beforehand, but I had still used it against him. I cursed myself silently that he could read me so well.  
"All right. Draco Malfoy, what payment do you want?"  
"I want that necklace."  
"What necklace?"  
"The ruby one you found. I want it. Let me have it and I'll work for you," he kept his voice guarded, and I couldn't see any emotion but cold anger in his eyes.  
"How do you--"  
"Don't ask me that. Just give me the necklace."  
"But--"  
"Stevens, I am NOT fucking around here. Give it to me, I'll help you for as long as you like. That's my only offer, take it or leave it."  
I was slightly takenaback. He knew about something that I had told no one about--not even the trees, who were doing much better now that I was safe--and he was asking me to give it to him, without questioning why he wanted it.  
"I can't do that. Not unless I knew what it did and why you wanted it."  
His mouth was set in a thin line. "Stevens," his voice was cold and controlled. "I will not help you unless I have the necklace." I started to re-state my question. "Don't ask me why, it's better that you don't know. Just give it to me. It'll be better in the end."  
He saw the question in my eyes.  
"It'll be better for everyone--especially you."  
"And what about you?" I asked softly, not taking my eyes from his.  
"It will be better for me, as well."  
"Draco...you know I can't."  
"Then," he carefully hid every emotion that might have shown on his face, "I will not help you. Find someone else to do it."  
I nodded, also trying my hardest to hide the conflicting emotions raging inside of me like a tiger in a cage. "Thank you."  
Draco raised his eyebrows, "For what?"  
"For taking the time to listen to my proposal."  
He nodded once, then turned and continued into the Great Hall to breakfast. I had the distinct feeling that neither of us would be eating.  
---------  
It was the ever-slow second week of school. The teachers were becoming extremely uptight, and homework was increasing eash day. I had no idea how I was going to get through the enormous pile of homework but I spent less and less time with my few friends, and more and more time immersed in a sea of schoolbooks. And Draco still refused to help me, not that it surprised me.  
'Monday,' I thought unhappily, sitting back in my chair to survey the cluttered library tale I was sitting at. 'I hate Monday and I hate homework and I'm beginning to hate the library, too.'  
Did the professors think that because we were seventh years we could handle four projects, six essays, and one study group with some other people. Because if that's what they thought, then they were sorely mistaken. I had almost been unable to cope in fifth year--which now seemed like a day at the beach compared to now. But I knew that all complaining was likely to do was land me a spot in detention--something I did NOT need at the time,  
I began working on the dreaded Potions essay.   
As I flipped through the heavy, ancient pages of one of the potion books, someone gently tapped me on the shoulder.  
I spun around in my chair to face the person who had startled me.  
Pansy Parkinson--Slytherin Prefect--was standing behind me, with her eyebrows raised.   
"What do you want?" I asked wearily. I was not in the mood to deal with snooty Slytherins.  
"If I wanted anything from you I would take it. But I have been instruced to give you this," she handed me a sealed envelope. "It is--"  
"Who is it from?" I questioned before she could finish.  
"I was just getting to thst before you interrupted me. I received it from Draco, and he said it was from his father." Her eyes glittered maliciously, as she turned to go.  
"What does it say, Pansy?"  
She stopped, looking back at me and smirking.  
"I wouldn't know. I didn't read it."  
And she turned, striding out of the library.  
I tore open the envelope, pulling out a heavy sheet of parchment.  
It began:  
Dear Miss Stevens,  
I am very distressed that I must be the one to tell you this, but it is my duty.  
Your parents have been taked prisoner by Lord Voldemort, and his faithful servants. If you would like to have the returned alive, then you must not telll anyone of what has happened. To have Andrew and Lydia Stevens returned alive, then you and Harry Potter must appear formally in a gathering held by Lord Voldemort at the Dark Castle on All-Hallow's Eve. With you, you must bring the Coriantianum ruby necklace. If you do not appear, your parents and Harry Potter will be killed.  
I sincerely hope that you understand what you must do.  
Sincerely,  
Lucius Malfoy  
  
I sat for a few moments in stunned silence.  
Then I let the letter fall from my hand. I blindly searched inside the envelope for something more--some kind of help, a message from someone who cared.  
And at last I found a smaller scrap of paper.  
On it, two words were written. 'Tempestus Goddard.'  
I knew that fine handwriting. And I'd go to him, and we would talk it over. He would know what to do.  
I hoped. 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
  
I tiptoed quietly down the dark corridor. It was not far past midnight, but I knew that no one would be awake in the common room. So I continued to the bare patch of stone wall where the entrance was.  
"Tempestus Goddard," I whispered. The wall slid slowly out of the way and I headed into the Slytherin common room.   
No one.  
Good. It was best if no one saw me or knew where I was going.  
I walked to the door that was his, and opened it. Unlocked--something he would not have done if he had thought I wouldn't come. So he knew how desperate I was for some comfort and company. It would make me fragile and open, but it would also allow him to trust my actions more.  
I opened the door softly and stepped inside, closing it behind me.  
His room was entirely dark except for the slanting light of the moon flooding in through the high windows. He lay, fully dressed, on the bedspread, his eyes open and his hands on his stomach. He didn't move as I stepped inside and cast my cloak onto the chair by the fireplace.  
"Draco."  
"Nicole."  
"Tell me what I'm supposed to do."  
He sat up, running a hand through his velvety-soft hair. "I'm supposed to know?"  
"Yes," I answered softly. "Yes, Draco, you're supposed to know what I'm supposed to do. It's your bastard father that's done this. You know him better than I do. Now tell me how I'm supposed to get my parents back unharmed."  
"Unharmed? Try again, dear. They'll be tortured, even if you comply with every guideline set. If you read it carefully, you might realise that he says 'alive', not 'unharmed.' So, you're up the rived without a paddle as far as that goes. To have them returned alive, comply with the rules, and don't screw around with them. To have them killed, do whatever you please and threaten them with faulty promises. Other than that, I have absolutely no idea as to how you are supposed to get them free."  
I stood for a few moments in silence, thinking and taking everything in. I refused to look at Draco, though I knew that he was looking intently at me. My eyes were watering slightly, as I held back all of my emotions. This was not happening. It couldn't be. Not MY parents. Surely it was all a joke. A cruel, cruel joke devised by Draco to get me into his arms. Yes, that must be it. What else?  
"You're a liar," I hissed venemously at him. "You're lying. That letter--you wrote it. You wrote it so I would come crying to you," my voice rose with passion as I became more frustrated. "You're just jealous that I chose Harry instead of you, again. But--"  
Draco jumped up from the bed and advanced threateningly towards me.  
"Yeah, I'm jealous of Potter," he spat, his eyes glittering with the moonlight and his fierce anger. "Yeah, I know that you have kissed him and enjoyed it, and I'm jealous. So screw me. Why wouldn't I be? My ex-girlfriend with my arch-enemy--yeah, I'm a little upset! Are you saying that I should just let it go? Well, maybe it's that easy for you to just slip away with Potter and get your mind off me, but for me, I don't have anyone else!" His voice was heated and loud. The people in the next rooms were probably woken by it. "I don't have someone who will love me, all right?! All I have is you--you're the only one I've ever really considered spending my life with, and now you tell me 'Oh, sorry, didn't I tell you? Potter, your arch-enemy, is better in bed, so I think I'll just go sleep with him now and forget about you.' How do you think that makes ME feel?!" I opened my mouth to answer, but he stopped me. "And don't tell me you understand, because you don't! You just don't care about leaving me, because you think that Potter is going to be all you need. Well guess what--I could be that. I could be all you needed. I have money, I have as many resources as you could ever possibly need, and guess what else? I love you! I love you with all of my heart and if that sounds cliche it's only because it's what I feel and I've never been really good with words!" He took one step towards me, bringing himself less that a pace away from me. "And if you think Potter has something I don't, then I can assure you that you haven't gotten to know him yet."  
"You think I don't know him?" I asked in a whisper."  
"Yeah. You don't know him at all. He won't let you, just like he won't let anyone else. Not even his best friends know what he's really like. What makes you think you do?"  
"Well, I, I--"  
"You think he loves you? He's known Weasley and Granger for seven years, almost. And they still don't know him. You've known him for two years. You do the math, darling."  
I stopped breathing for a second. Draco continued looking me directly in the eye, searching.  
Then I lunged.   
I pounced on him, my fingers fastening around his neck as my weight knocked him backwards. He stumbled back, coming closer to the bed. His hands were against my arms, pushing me away. As he saw that I was not about to let go, he slid his hands down to my waste and threw me onto the bed, detaching me from his neck. I landed on my back, dazed that he had managed to get me off.  
Draco came over to the side of the bed, before saying in a quiet voice, "I know why you did that." My face contorted with anger as I sat up, but he continued. "You've just now realised it's true."  
And then he turned around and strode over to the fireplace, lighting it with his wand. Then he sat in one of the chairs, rubbing his eyes tiredly.  
I stood from the bed. My waist was sore from the force with which he had thrown me. Stepping slowly, I made my way over to his chair, and then sat in the chair beside it. I leaned back, staring deliberately into the fire. It burned my eyes to look at it, but I wouldn't take my eyes from it.  
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly.  
"I know you didn't. But I meant to hurt you. I'm sorry I...I just didn't want to hear that. It made me think about everything in the past two years. It made me question everything."  
He nodded, ruffling his hair with his hands.  
"That was the purpose of it. But you realise that I was telling the truth?"  
I looked at the floor. "Yes. And I knew it, too. I knew that I didn't know him, that he wouldn't let me. But I thought that maybe he would loosen up, or something. I still knew, though. I just didn't want to admit it."  
"I know you didn't want to admit it. Just like I wasn't so sure I wanted to tell you that I loved you--but I did it."  
We sat in silence for several minutes, before I asked the question that had been hovering in the air. "So what do I do now?"  
"I honestly don't know."  
"Draco...what am I going to tell Harry? How am I going to get my parents back?"  
"I don't know, Nicole."  
"But I can't do this on my own. I need help. I need someone to tell me how to win."  
"No one can do that, no one but yourself," he answered, glancing sideways to look at me. "But you've never had to work on something by yourself, have you?"  
I shook my head. Draco grinned wearily, "You're going to have to try, you know. You can't go through life not knowing how to cope with problems. Everyone has to learn how to deal with things on their own, you're no different. Your problems may be a bit more complicated than most, but you're also one of the most extraordinary people I've ever met. I think you'll be fine."  
"Won't you help me, Draco?"  
He looked at me, his eyes warm. "Yes, but I can't tell you how to fix everything. I can't show you how to win, and I can't tell you all the answers. You have to find them on your own."  
I nodded, and Draco reached over and took my hand. "You are capable of making it by yourself. I've known it since the day we met. So, tell me, Nicole. What are you going to do?"  
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "But I have the feeling I'll figure it out."  
We both grinned, and I couldn't help but wonder where this left my relationship with him--and Harry.  
--------  
"I suppose that makes sense," Lucius said, gazing lazily at his son's face. His eyes lingered on the eyes of his son, seeing their pale-transparent colour. Did this boy think that he could not see straight through him? No, Draco knew he could hide nothing from his father. Nothing.   
Lucius roughly grabbed Draco's collar and threw him back into the wall. Then he began hastily unbuttoning the boy's shirt. His son gaped at him, but quickly shut his mouth. Talking would only make things worse for Draco. Lucius pulled the shirt off Draco and tossed it onto the floor.  
"Stand in the centre of the room," he hissed.  
Draco did so, and stood obediently in the middle of the room, shivering. Lucius circled Draco, stopping behind the boy. Then he raised his arm and brought the whip down hard on Draco's flesh. Draco let out a cry, and fell to his knees. There was a sharp crack as his knees hit the stone floor.  
Lucius took no time in striking the boy again. This time, it drew a thin line of blood across the pale skin. There was no cry of pain this time, only a whimper.  
Then he cracked the whip, and the sharp snap reverberated around the room. Draco jumped, and Lucius took it as a chance to slice another diagonal slash across Draco's back, making a large, bloody X.  
But he wasn't finished. Oh no. He had much more to do.  
-------------------  
I woke in the morning, my back stiff from not moving all night. I was in a soft feather bed. Opening my eyes, I looked around the room. Sunlight streamed in through the high windows in Draco's bedroom. Come to think of it, where was Draco?  
I looked all around the room, before standing and inspecting the chairs by the fireplace. There was no note, nothing. Next, I checked on the beuruea. There was a small note saying, "I thought you might want to be excused from classes. I gave a note to the Head Girl to give to Dumbledore that will get you out of classes for the day. You can go back to your common room, or you may stay here, but please don't go outside. There are certain dangers of being outside in the mornings. Just trust me.  
--Draco"  
I stood for a minute with the letter in my hand, pondering what he meant. Dangers? But I had not been planning to go outside anyways. There wasn't a point. But I got the day off to do whatever I pleased. Planning was what I was intending to do. I needed a plan. A fool-proof plan.  
Fool-proof plan, I thought. I couldn't fail. Failure was not an option. Not when so much was at stake.  
I headed to the door, planning to go to the library to do some research. Just as I reached out to turn the handle, the door opened inward. It swung forward and banged my head.   
"Ow!" I yelped, jumping back.  
Draco pushed the door open and rushed forward, pulling my hand away from my sore forehead. "I'm so sorry!"  
"Ow..." I moaned.  
"Sit down," he pushed me into the nearest chair and began inspecting the bruise that was blooming on my forehead. "Good. Just bruised. I'm really sorry."  
"I know." He touched my forehead gingerly. "That hurts!"  
Draco stopped, and sat down on the ottoman in front of me. "I got you excused from classes."  
"I know."  
"I think you should rest up. You're going to have some late nights trying to figure out what to do. And, knowing how my father works, he's thought of just about every trick you might pull. So I think that you'll have to be extra cunning if you want to win this one."  
"So...I'll have to do something they won't expect. Like using their own tricks against them. What did they use last time? They made me think that Riddle was Harry by using a potion. What was it called? Poly--poly something."  
"I think I remember Father mentioning something of the sort."  
"Polyjuice! The Polyjuice Potion. That was it. It made Riddle into Harry for about an hour, I think. If I could use that on someone who was willing to help, then maybe I could fool them. But who would be willing to help?"  
"I would, but I can't. I have to be present at the ceremony. Can't you think of anyone else who can be trusted with something like this?"  
I looked up at him from under my eyelashes, gazing deeply into his eyes. "You really think I have those kinds of potion brewing skills--even if I can't find someone to use the potion on?"  
He stared back at me, his chin resting in his palm. "No," he replied honestly. "But I think you know someone who does."  
"Hermione?"  
He nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips.  
"I think you might have a small trouble convincing her to brew the Potion, but I definately think that you could get her to do it for you."  
"And someone loyal, someone dedicated to keeping Harry safe would be...Ron."  
"Very good. I knew you could do this on your own."  
"Now tell me again why can't you help me?"  
"If I help you, my father will find out. He will--he promised me that when he gave me the letter. But I can...give you hints along the way."  
"So I ask Hermione to brew the potion, and then I ask Ron if he would mind transforming into his best friend for a while. Oh great. What a lovely meeting that will be. 'Hey, Hermione, would you mind brewing a potion that is probably illegal, just so that Harry won't have to confront Voldie?' And then with Ron. 'Nice to see you, Ron. Spectacular weather we're having today isn't it? I hope you will take this potion to turn you into Harry--because I don't want him to come face-to-face with Voldemort again. You know how it is.'"  
"Your sarcasm is less than amusing. And right now, I don't see that you have any other options."  
"You know Draco, you're right. I'm never going to get myself out of this mess if I won't be serious about it."  
He raised his eyebrows, "You're agreeing? With me?"  
I shrugged mildly.   
"All right then."  
---------  
By ten o' clock I was sitting in the library, with Draco browsing through the shelves and picking up books that were supposed to help me (but secretly I thought he was finding romance novels to read before he went to sleep). Draco brought me a book and set it down.   
"What are all those?" I asked, indictating the other books in his arms.  
"Books I want to read."  
"Ah," I said, reading some of the titles. 'Nightlife in the City,' 'Passion: a Love Story,' 'Sex, Pain, and Angst: The Life of a Teen.' Sounded like Draco's kind of books to me. Or maybe he just enjoyed the pictures. Yeah. /Right./ "Do you really need to be reading those?"  
"Of course. They are modern works of art. Masterpieces."  
"So you've read them?"  
"Absolutely."  
I gave him a look that said, 'I don't think I want to know what they're about.'  
"My father made me read them when I was twelve."  
"Why?"  
"Because he didn't want to teach me about sex, and Snape's only just gotten around to telling us."  
I let out a snort of laughter. "Snape? Talking about sex?"  
Draco nodded, grinning. "You should have seen his face. He looked like someone had just told him he would look sexy in jeans with a whip."  
Pondering this for a moment, I shuddered. "Repulsive."  
"Yes, I know. And the way he said it. 'When a man loves a woman, they...do things.'"  
We both laughed--quietly, because Madam Pince would have killed us if we were loud. And then I set back to work. If freeing my parents seemed to be far from my mind, it was not. I had masked my worries all day, hoping desperately that I didn't screw something up, and also hoping against hope that I would not leak something to one of the Gryffindors.   
But Draco knew about it--did that count against me? No, I hoped it didn't. After all, I hadn't told him about what had happened, he had known already. So really I was following the rules quite nicely.   
My mind refused to stay focused on work. I had a small attention span--if I tried to work for more than half an hour, I would most likely end up bouncing off the walls. Something that I had forgotten to inform Draco of. But, luckily, Draco insisted that I eat something, as I had missed breakfast.  
"What do you want?"  
"Strawberries with whipped cream."  
"Are you kidding?"  
"Yeah, but I'd like some for desert. No, really, I don't know what I want. Just...pick something, or something."  
"And if I get something you don't like?"  
"Then I'll make you go back and try again."  
He shrugged, rolling his eyes. "Whatever."  
I couldn't bring myself to return to work after he had gone. So instead I picked up 'Nightlife in the City' and flipped through it, stopping on page 286--for no more reason than the fact that I liked that number.  
'Kara sighed, shaking her head. Audren was too proud, too vain. He acted like he had his choice of any of the women in Britain. But he'd never know that she was the best he would ever have. No, he would never realise how lucky he was.  
'Of course, Audren was handsome and charming. But he could be stubborn, and Audren was forceful. Kara knew this, and she would not have told anyone differently. But Kara always hoped that one day, Audren would stop trying to force her to do things, and learn that sometimes love is about partnership. However, it had not happened yet and was not likely to happen any time soon. Yet she could always hope.  
'Suddenly Kara was shaken out of her reverie, as the front door of the flat opened with a bang. She jumped up from the bed, and ran from the bedroom to see what had caused the noise. Audren was setting down his things, his raven black hair curling in gentle waves, and a few stray strands falling across his eyes. Kara stood for a moment, waiting for him to say hello.  
'He did not. Instead of greeting her with a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead, Audren collapsed tiredly onto the couch. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply.  
'"Audren," Kara said softly. He looked up at her, his black eyes staring intently at her crystal blue ones. But he still said nothing. "Audren, is something wrong? You don't seem...yourself."'  
'"I'm fine, Kara," he replied softly. "I'm just tired."'  
'She took this as a dismissal, and headed back to the bedroom. He wasn't usually this...quiet. Something must have happened at work to cause him to act so differently. But Kara knew that it was likely he would soon fall asleep, and wake up feeling better than he did now.'  
At this point in the story I had to admit that Lucius had some taste. The book seemed to be well written, at least Lucius had chosen something that wasn't just slopped together.  
Draco came back, carrying a small parcel. He handed it to me, and then his eyes strayed to the book.  
"You like it?"  
"It's not bad."  
"I know. That would be why I'm reading it again."  
I began opening the packet. Inside the brown wrapping was a little jar of white cream, a bag of fresh strawberries, and a sandwhich.  
"You actually got me strawberries and whipped cream," I stated blandly.  
"No," he plucked them from my hands. "I got them for me."  
Then he gave me a smile and handed me a strawberry and the jar of cream.  
And we went back to work. 


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five  
  
'I can do this,' I repeated in my head. 'I can do this by myself.'   
  
I pushed open the door and stepped outside into the fresh air. The wind tossed my hair across my face, as I headed towards the Quidditch Pitch.   
  
Passing the lake, I saw a giant tentacle rise out of the depths of the water, waving wildly. I shuddered. The giant lake-creature was enough to scare the wits out of me. With its purpley skin and many tentacles, only the bravest students dare go near it.  
  
But I pushed these thoughts from my mind as I approached the Quidditch Pitch, where red dressed figures flew far above the ground. They soared around, and I could barely spot Harry as he darted after the tiny golden snitch. The beaters hit the Bludgers around, defending their players.  
  
I stood beside the Gryffindor Quidditch Shack, waiting for them to finish practice.  
  
I heard a clatter from the shack, the sound of gear being tossed into lockers. Then the door banged open and the players poured out. As Harry exited he spotted me leaning against the wall and came to stand by me.  
  
"Hey. You weren't in classes today. Hermione wouldn't tell me what was wrong, but she came to class late." He leaned on his Firebolt and gazed pensively at me. "You feeling all right?"  
  
"Actually, yeah. I'm all right. I didn't want to go to classes so I got a note to Dumbledore. Listen--"  
  
"Hey, are you coming Harry?" asked one of his friends.  
  
"Yeah, just a second," he turned back to me. "So what were you saying?"  
  
"Listen, Harry. I don't know an easy way to say this, but...I'm breaking up with you. I've just realised some things, and I realise that I don't need to be concentrating on you when I have so many other things going on in my life. I hope you understand."  
  
He stared at me for a moment before shrugging. "No big deal for me. Ginny'll be pleased."  
  
I had expected some emotion.  
  
"So, go already," he said. "Go back to Draco like you always do. It won't make any difference to me."  
  
"Look. I'm not going back to Draco. Not now, at any rate. I've got too much on my plate already. I really don't need a boyfriend. Not you, not Draco, not anyone."  
  
Harry shrugged again, his green eyes dull and his expression nonchalant. "Whatever. I have to go now. I was actually at classes today, and I have homework." He turned and strode briskly up to the castle. Well, fine then. He could act however he pleased and it was no problem of mine.  
  
For once, I thought I might actually be able to make it on my own.  
  
---------  
  
Draco and I were in the back of the library, searching for books to help me.  
  
"You seem quiet," he said in a whisper--Madam Pince was walking down the isles, patrolling. "What's wrong?"  
  
I didn't look at him; instead I kept my eyes on the spines of the books. "Nothing. It's nothing, I'm nothing, I mean nothing, to anyone. Nothing, nothing, nothing."  
  
"That's a lot of nothing. So what happened?"  
  
"Why should I tell you?"  
  
"Because I'm your friend."  
  
"I broke it off with Harry."  
  
Draco stopped. "Repeat that."  
  
"Put these words in the correct order: with, Harry, off, broke, it, I."  
  
He didn't smile, nor did his expression change, but there was a glimmer in his eyes. "Potter had it coming."  
  
"Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. The point is that he's no longer my boyfriend, and it would seem as if he didn't want to be my friend, either. But I suppose that isn't unusual..."  
  
"That's his misfortune."  
  
"I suppose."  
  
I felt him looking at me as I returned to scanning the shelves. His eyes burnt into me, as if he could see everything I was thinking and feeling. My very thoughts surely could be seen with those eyes.   
  
Then Draco reached over and touched my hand. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and gently pulled me closer. Closer, but not too close. Draco tilted my chin up and gazed at me, as if he didn't have to move ever again. And as if I wouldn't move away.  
  
"You're unhappy that you did it. Why?"  
  
"He," I answered, fumbling over the words, "he acted like I didn't matter to him at all. Like I was never important to him, or like I didn't mean anything to him. He just shrugged at me and left. Not that he seemed angry, it's just...he seemed so...calm. It was as if he didn't give a damn either way what I did."  
  
"He's hurting too. He just shows it differently."  
  
"How would you know?" I questioned.  
  
"When you'd break up with me, how did I act?"  
  
"You were loud and hateful and unhappy."  
  
"Right. I showed my emotions. But Potter doesn't work that way. He keeps everything bottled up inside. So he won't show you what he's feeling, and that's why you think he doesn't care."  
  
"No. I think he really doesn't care."  
  
"Well, think what you like but I'm right."  
  
I shrugged gently, pulling back and continuing my search for books.  
  
-------Dream-------  
  
Draco was on his knees, tears running down his face. Bloody gashes ran along his back, evidence of the torture. His face was full of emotion, and his eyes were filled with extreme pain and sadness.  
  
Lucius had left only moments ago, and that was when Draco's tears had begun to flow. He was in so much pain. It was stinging, burning--like fire and ice flowing through his veins. The blood was dripping down his arms. Dripping, dripping, dark red drops of thick blood coming from the marks on his back.  
  
"What have I done to be cursed with such a life?" he sobbed in agony. "If I had not killed my gods a long time ago I would think that I had angered them."  
  
He rested his forehead on the floor. His head was throbbing, his back was stinging, and he was bleeding. His blood covered the floor, his arms, his hands, there was even some in his hair and on his face. This was just the way Lucius had wanted it to be.  
  
"Father," Draco spoke into the silence. "Father, why must it always be my fault? Why must you punish me so?"  
  
He stopped quickly, as the door opened. Draco wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up.  
  
Narcissa was standing there, a washcloth in her delicate hands. Draco looked plaintively up at her, and she grimaced.  
  
"Do not look at me so," she muttered, kneeling on the ground beside him. "It makes me uncomfortable."  
  
"Mother," he moaned quietly. "Mother, my head. My back. Please, help me. Make the pain go away." He sounded like a child.  
  
She shook her head sadly, "I have no wand. Lucius told me to clean you up, and bandage your wounds."  
  
Draco looked at her with sorrowful eyes. She shivered under his piercing gaze, and began to clean the blood from his face.  
  
"Mother, why does he do this to me?"  
  
"Because he does not know what else to do."  
  
------------  
  
I awoke, feeling unhappy and disturbed. These dreams were becoming too...personal. Private. Draco had not told me about these things--and if he had meant for me to know he would have told me. But what was I supposed to do? Refrain from sleeping? No. I couldn't possibly do that. So, I would ask Draco and be done with it. Maybe then I wouldn't have these creepy dreams.   
  
Dressing, I thought about what I might say to him. 'Yo! Draco! How've you been? Whipped by your father lately?' Nope. Not going to cut it. Something... considerate.   
  
By the time I got to the great hall it was almost time for breakfast. Just as I was heading through the doors, Draco emerged from the Prefect's Door. As he saw me he managed a light smile. I stopped to wait for him.  
  
"Hey," he greeted.  
  
"Morning. Um...listen, I need to talk to you. Do you think maybe we could go somewhere alone to talk?"  
  
He looked around us and then back at me. "We are alone."  
  
"Yes," I grabbed him by the arm and began dragging him towards the stairs, "but this is kind of private so...I don't think you'll want to talk about it in the middle of the hall."  
  
He shrugged, giving me a funny look as I dragged him up the stairs and led him into an empty classroom. "Look," I began. "I'vebeenhavingthesecreepyscardreamsaboutyouandyourfather. Andit'sfreakingmeout. Socanyoupleaseexplain?" I said in a rush.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I've been having these dream about you and your father."  
  
"What kind of dreams?"  
  
"Well, in one he gets mad at you for speaking out of turn in front of his colleagues. And in the next one he takes you to this room. Then he...hurts you." I tried not to include all the gory details.  
  
Draco's eyes widened.  
  
"He whips you. And you bleed."  
  
"How did you find out about that?" he asked.  
  
"I told you. I had dreams."  
  
"No. That's impossible...I know you're different but no one can do that."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Intercept people's dreams."  
  
"I didn't--I just..." I faded out. "You were dreaming about the same thing?"  
  
He nodded.   
  
"Tell me about it. Is it real? Did it really happen?"  
  
"Yes. It really happened. A couple of summers ago. But...it's happened before. It happened when I was younger too. If I didn't follow the rules, or if I made him angry, he would take me and beat me. Though sometimes it was worse than others. Whips, fencing matches that lasted hours, he thought of many things to hurt me. And my mother...she wanted to help, but he would take her wand from her and send her up to clean me off. Sometimes she would cry, too. She loves my father, and she loves me, but I don't hurt her like my father does. He beats her too. But she's learned. She learned not to disobey him. I still haven't." He looked at me with doleful eyes. "I know this probably scares you, but it's the truth. And there are so many rules, and if I break one of them, that's what happens to me. Sometimes, he even hurt her--my mother, I mean--to punish me. She cried then, too. I would have taken the beatings for her, but he knew what would hurt me most." He looked close to tears, now.   
  
"I've never told anyone about it before. No one knows. My father's friends--I don't even think any of them know either. If they did, they wouldn't say anything. None of them like my mother very much anyways...they think she's a seducing demon of some sort. And, in a way, she is. Her grandmother was part succubus. But...never mind."  
  
"Oh. Well. All right. Bye, then."  
  
"Wait, just one more thing."  
  
I turned back to him.  
  
"I love you," and he pulled me to him and kissed me.  
  
---------  
  
The first Quidditch game of the season, Gryffindor verses Slytherin. I could hear the crowds cheering in the stands, even though I was tucked away in the far corner of the library, researching. A loud horn sounded--they were off.   
  
I returned to my book, knowing how much I would have enjoyed being in the stands, cheering and laughing with the rest of the students. But it wouldn't have helped me make any progress with my research. Besides, it wasn't worth it. Not really, anyways. Not anymore. My mind was too occupied as it was.  
  
'Naturally, the Founders never suspected Slytherin of making an Opticilym, but the creation of such an item was documented by Slytherin. Had Gryffindor or the women known of Slytherin's cunning plan, they would have put a stop to it immediately, which was why they were never told of the Opticilym's existence.   
  
'The Opticilym resembled a large gem, likely green--Slytherin's signature colour. It was never used, though it's main purpose was to destroy or control a person. There were, without a doubt, other uses for the Opticilym, though only two were ever documented. However, the Opticilym was as beautiful as it was dangerous.  
  
'Slytherin most likely disguised the Opticilym, because, though the other Founders were not schooled in the Dark Arts, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw knew much of the same things as Slytherin. If the Opticilym was disguised it could have been concealed in any way. But, however advanced it was, the true form of the Opticilym could not be changed. So it very well could have been disguised as a piece of jewellery that Slytherin wore, for it was said that he never let the Opticilym out of reach.  
  
'Despite the dangerous nature of the Opticilym, it was also thought to be a dream-catcher, of sorts. It intercepted the dreams of others whom the wearer or bearer was closely connected to. Slytherin could have seen Ravenclaw's dreams sounds better. This presented Slytherin with a big advantage--if some of his co-Founders had been plotting against him, it was almost certain that they would dream of it, and he would see it, which was why Slytherin escaped Gryffindor's attack. Were it not for the Opticilym, Slytherin would have been killed by Gryffindor's blow.'  
  
"Blah, blah, blah. I don't understand any of this. If Draco had really wanted to help me he would have said what I was supposed to be looking for."  
  
"Ah, you're quite right, of course. If he had wanted to help you, that is," Pansy Parkinson appeared in front of me. She pulled out a chair and sat, glancing casually at the books strewn across the table. "But you realise that all he's doing is leading you around in circles like a little terrier. He told me so. In fact, his exact words were, 'She'll lap it up. I know she doesn't like Potter very much, and if I tell her some things, well...I'll be in this time, for sure.'"  
  
"Go away. I didn't invite you."  
  
"You remember the time Draco hurt me? And you stopped him and took me up to the nurse's office?"  
  
I nodded, slowly.  
  
"Think of this as paying off my debt. You helped me, now I'm helping you. Beware of Draco. He's no good. You can't handle him. You don't have the skills or the practice it would take to handle him. Leave him be and go back to your Gryffindor buddies. Because I can promise you that if you don't, you'll only end up worse off. He does that to people."  
  
"You excluded, right?"  
  
She shrugged, "Sometimes."  
  
"Look, whatever. Go away. It's my choice if I decide to be killed or not. I'm just doing what I think is right, for now. And until I get a truly reliable source telling me I'm wrong, I'm going to continue doing just what I think is the right choice. So go away."  
  
"You think that there is a truly reliable source? Who would that be? Dumbledore? No one has all the answers, so don't expect that of anyone. If you do you'll only end up disappointed."  
  
I glared at her and she smiled airily. "Well, I suppose that's that," Pansy said, "I hope you'll do the right thing."  
  
When she had gone, I sat and pondered her words. She might be right. I couldn't control him. Not that I was trying to, or ever had tried. But I doubted the truth in Pansy's words. Slytherins tended to be untrustworthy people, which I had learned in my two years at Hogwarts. And Pansy Parkinson was one of the worst. Annoying, bratty, and all-around disliked.   
  
From the distant Quidditch field, I heard a horn sound. The game was over. I wondered vaguely who had won. But it made no difference, although I was almost certain Gryffindor had won again. Harry always caught the Snitch. It was what he did best.   
  
There were footsteps behind me, and I looked to find Draco standing behind me. His nose was bloody and he had a black eye.   
  
"What happened to you?" I asked. He sat down across from me and shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
"I took a little fall."  
  
"Looks like a rather large fall to me."  
  
He wiped the blood on his sleeve and shrugged again, "It was a small tumble."  
  
"From how high up?"  
  
"Oh, three feet, maybe. Weasley," Draco said with a grimace, scowling at someone behind me. Ron sat down beside me.   
  
"Nicole, I think we have a small problem."  
  
"We do?"  
  
"Yeah. Harry's in Dumbledore's office. He's probably going to be expelled."  
  
I stared at him, dumbstruck. "Expelled?"  
  
Ron nodded, "He pushed that git off his broom. Shoved ferret-boy right off, fifty feet up in the air. Harry caught the Snitch right after but it didn't matter, because Slytherin won by default."  
  
"He pushed you?" I said accusingly to Draco.  
  
"I took a TUMBLE," he repeated.  
  
"From fifty feet. My god, you could have been killed. Why aren't you in the Hospital Wing? You moron, you're seriously injured."  
  
"Well, the thing is, I went to Madam Pomfrey, and she wanted me to stay so she could have a look at me. But I didn't want to. So...here I am."  
  
"Boys," I growled. "All right. Thanks for telling me, Ron. Is there anything else?"  
  
"Wait a second, aren't you going to rush up there and tell Dumbledore it wasn't Harry's fault?" Ron asked incredulously.  
  
"Maybe you haven't noticed, Ron, but it was his fault. If he gets expelled, that's his problem and not mine."  
  
"But that's what you always do!"  
  
"I know. I just don't feel like being the heroine right now. Is that all right with you? I don't exactly want to go rushing up to defend Harry when he's in the wrong. He can defend himself, Ronniekins. He's a big boy."  
  
Ron gaped at me like a dead fish, "But--but--but..."  
  
"Weasley, get it through your thick head! She's not going to do anything. Go away and help Potter on your own."  
  
Ron glared daggers at Draco and stomped away, looking like a grumpy child who's been told no.  
  
"Stupid Gryffindor."  
  
I turned to him, "How many bones have you broken?"  
  
"A couple of ribs."  
  
"Whatever," I began stuffing my books and notes into my bag. "I'm going to my dorm to work. I advise you to go back to the Hospital Wing. Internal bleeding is dangerous." 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six  
  
As I walked into the common room I saw Ron hurrying towards me. I backed away, shaking my head. "Oh, no. You're not getting me to help you with anything. I already told you, Harry can take care of himself. He's being doing it for seventeen years now."  
  
Ron shook his head, pulling me by the arm towards the stairs leading to the boys' dormitories. "No, no, no. You're not helping him, you're helping me. Harry's locked up out of the dorm room and we can't get in. He's destroying the room, and our stuff is as good as gone. We've all tried to get him to open the door, but he won't do it. So..."  
  
"So what? I'm not your personal helper. If you want him to open the door, ask him nicely. You never know, maybe politeness will get you somewhere. But I can assure you that I'm not the person Harry will listen to. Or, better yet, find Dumbledore and gt him to make Harry open the door."  
  
Ron stopped, "He will listen to you. He loves you. Why won't you just try to help us? Help me. Get him to open the door, and I'll never ask you for another favour. I promise, Nicole. I promise. Just help me!"  
  
I sighed deeply, nodding. "Fine. But you have to promise me that it's the last thing you'll ever ask me to do. Okay? Because if it's not, then I'll hurt you. I promise you I'll injure you severely if you try to get me to help you with Harry again. Am I clear?"  
  
"Yeah. Now come on!" Ron led me up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. All I wanted to do was to go to my room and sleep, but instead, here I was being taken to solve a problem that I hadn't been a part of. Was there no end to the punishment that was my life? Apparently not.  
  
We stopped at a landing, where three boys sat, twiddling their thumbs and looking worried. Neville looked up hopefully, smiling. He was hoping I could fix it. Dean stared down at the floor, looking upset. Not that it was a surprise, or anything. The other boy, Seamus, was frowning at the door, and gazing intensely at it, as if he had mind powers that could unlock it. Ron pushed me towards the door, nodding quickly. I had best hurry and get it over with. Ron was obviously not going to allow me to leave until I had tried.  
  
"Uh," I was unsure of how to start. "Harry, open up. Can we talk for a second? I heard about the Quidditch game, and I think we should discuss some things. Will you please let me in?"  
  
There were some muffled thumps, and the sound of something glass shattering. Then the sound of ripping. "Harry? What are you doing?"  
  
"I just decapitated Neville's teacup collection, and shredded Dean's Sky an Belle books."  
  
"Sky and Belle?" I wondered aloud.  
  
Dean sighed, "Sky and Belle--they're characters in a book. Sky's a really vibrant girl who loves to party, and she meets Belle, another girl. But Belle's quieter, and she likes Everclear, the Muggle band. So, they go through all these experiences, and learn a lot from each other, and in the end Sky and Belle are separated because Sky's moving away and Belle's really sad. There's also this crazy girl Heather, and she's--"  
  
"Okay, okay, Dean. I get the point. Look, Harry. I really want to talk to you. Won't you just open the door?"  
  
"Here's a poster of Viktor Krum," he shouted through the door, sounding disgusted. "It's signed! Oh well." I could hear him ripping up the poster. Seamus groaned, pounding his head with his fist.   
  
I took a deep breath, before knocking on the door. "Harry Potter, stop having a temper tantrum and open this door so we can talk! You're acting like a two-year-old!"  
  
Muffled thumps came from behind the door. It opened barely, and I pushed through. Once inside, I turned to face Harry. He was leaning against the door, looking at the floor. I sighed, sitting on one of the beds. The room was a wreckage of paper and some broken glass.  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked.  
  
"I'm sorry if I don't take rejection well. Surprising, as I've had so much practice over the last three years," he hissed, not looking at me.   
  
"I didn't reject you."  
  
"You kissed him."  
  
"Oh, grow up. Not everything is about kissing."  
  
"Yeah, with Malfoy, some stuff's about groping," Harry shot back.  
  
"You're determined to be stubborn about this, aren't you?"  
  
"Not necessarily. To me it seems as if you're just determined to be a slut."  
  
I blushed bright red. Harry was scowling at the floor, and twiddling his thumbs. He didn't even seem to notice that my cheeks were now as red as the sheets on the bed. Or if he noticed, he didn't care. Never mind. This was the cold-hearted Harry. He didn't care.  
  
"All right," I replied sadly. "If that's the way you feel, then I guess we don't have anything else to talk about. I'll just go. But you might want to know that Ron's really worried about you. He thinks there's something wrong. And I think so too. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, Harry. But there's something you're not telling everyone, I know it. So until you're ready to talk, goodbye."  
  
I walked to the door, but he didn't move to let me through. Instead, he stood firm, gazing pensively at the floor. Shaking my head, I pushed him gently out of the way. But he didn't move. "Harry, let me out."  
  
He raised his eyes to mine. "Why should I?"  
  
"Well, it doesn't seem like you particularly want me here. And I don't really want to stay here with someone who's determined to make me feel inferior. So move out of my way, or I'll make you."  
  
He chuckled. "You don't need me to make you feel inferior. You should be able to do that by yourself."  
  
"I don't need you at all."  
  
Shrugging, he stepped aside. His passive-aggressiveness was almost palpable. I returned the shrug and opened the door. The other boys stood outside, looking hopeful. I waved at the door, as I headed down the stairs. They headed inside. Good. He could deal with them now. As for me, I was going to my bedroom and collapsing onto my bed.  
  
*~*~*~*Dream*~*~*~*  
  
Draco was chained to the wall, preventing him from moving. He had struggled, and now his wrists were chafed and raw. The stone wall was cold against his bare back. So there he was, shivering and cold, with blood trickling down his back.  
  
He looked down at his wrists, seeing the bloody rings around them. Some were from the whip, and some were from the leather bindings that kept him secured to the wall. Shivering, he wondered if he could slip out of them. Even though he knew he couldn't, he could not bear the thought of standing here all night.  
  
The door opened. Narcissa entered, looking apprehensive. Her son smiled gently at her, and she flinched, shaking her head. She unlocked the shackles and he thanked her.  
  
"When will you learn," she sighed. "Don't make your father angry. I don't understand why you won't learn."  
  
"I didn't do anything," he said quietly. "He stormed in, and...I don't know what he thinks I did. But whatever it is, I didn't do it. Mother, you know I would never...not intentionally."  
  
She sighed again. "I know it all too well. But intentions are funny things. Now, come on. Lets get you cleaned up for dinner."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The next day, I felt horrible. My head pounded and I cursed the sunlight that poured in through the window. Looking at my clock, I saw that it was almost eleven. Well, it seemed as if I should have caught up on any sleep I was lacking. But I felt tired, and it was almost as if I had the flu. The other girls were not to be found in the dorm, so I figured that they were down in the common room, talking about make-up. It would be like them.  
  
There was a knock on the door. I flinched. The noise sent a sharp pain through my head. I yelled hoarsely, "Come in." Professor Dumbledoor stepped inside. I frowned, wondering why he was there. "Hello, Professor." I sat up, propping pillows behind my back.  
  
"Good morning, Miss Stevens. If you'll excuse me for disturbing you, I thought you might like to take a look at this. It was sent to me, along with a letter. Do not ask who it is from, for I have no answer, only speculation."  
  
I nodded slowly and took the envelope from his hands. It was heavy and made of a rich vellum material. There was a sense of foreboding lurking in my head, but I had no idea why. Opening the envelope, I picked up the first thing my fingers touched. It was a clipping from today's Daily Prophet.  
  
---Missing Couple's House Explored  
  
by Rita Skeeter  
  
It is a warm day in the cosy nook that is Godric's Hollow. But all here is not well, the house remains empty, and everything inside is covered with a thin layer of dust broken by nothing but my footsteps from exploring the house. The house belonging to the Stevens family has not yet been investigated by the Ministry of Magic.  
  
Having explored the house, I am certain that it has been empty for many months. The rooms are tidy, and there is nothing to suggest that the house was burglarised. Only one clue has been left; the master bedroom in the upstairs of the house has spots of blood spattering the floor. Though the bed is not made, it seems as if there was no struggle getting the couple out of the bed. However, it would appear that some foulplay did occur.   
  
While the daughter of the missing couple has declined my request for an interview, a close friend of hers said that there was something she was hiding from everyone. It would seem, based on the evidence, that all clues point towards the one daughter of the Stevens family: Nicole.  
  
Though some sources say she has been at school for the past few months, clues have led us to believe that she left school during a weekend and went home. What happened while she was there, however, is unknown. Until the Ministry chooses to investigate the home, we may never know what happened to the Stevens.---  
  
My jaw dropped. It couldn't be true! Rita Skeeter was blaming me for something I had not done. She didn't even know what happened, and here she was, saying that I had commited a crime. I tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall onto the page. I dropped the article and rummaged through the envelope for a letter. I found what I was looking for.  
  
---The Ministry of Magic---  
  
Professor Dumbledore,  
  
As Minister of Magic, it is my duty to inform you that one of your students, Nicole Stevens, has been accused of kidnapping and/or murder by the following party/parties: Sir Lucius Malfoy. He bases his claims on the evidence found in the home of said student. I have reviewed the evidence, and it would seem that there is sufficient evidence to prove their theory that the accused left school on September the 6th, kidnapping and/or murdering her parents in their home in Godric's Hollow.  
  
To be fair to the student, there will be a trial held on October 30th. The accused will testify, and if available, others may testify for or against the alleged kidnapper and/or murderer. The student will be excused from any and all classes for that day to appear before myself and her accusers. Any witness and/or alibis will also be excused from classes for the entire day to make preparations for the trial.  
  
Inclosed you will find a list of evidence, a newspaper article, several photographs, and a written statement from the accuser. Please read and/or inspect these things before disclosing them to the student. I will require a formal written statement from the student, stating guilty of not guilty of any and all crimes.  
  
Cornelius Fudge  
  
Minister of Magic---  
  
"Professor," I said weakly, "I didn't do it. How could I have done it? I was here--I was at school. Malfoy, he framed me. I know it. Why on earth would I do that?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore sighed, "I do not know how they think that you were in two places at once. I am well aware that you were attending school. But they have substantial proof to convict you. You need an alibi, and witnesses who saw you here at school."  
  
"I need some way to prove that I didn't do it. Does Fudge not know that Lucius Malfoy is a slimy, Death Eater bovine?" I stopped, as something occured to me. The Dark Mark was branded on my arm from my fifth year. How would I explain something like that? "Professor, the Dark Mark--if they do a physical inspection, they'll find it. I'll be convicted for sure, then. Damn it. Why didn't I just let myself be killed then?"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head sadly, "You will need an alibi, as I said. Who saw you at school that weekend?"  
  
"Lots of people," I said. "Harry, Ron, Hermione...even Draco. Snape saw me, too."  
  
"Unfortunately, three of those people will not be fit as an alibi. Mister Potter is considered to be unstable by the Minister. Draco Malfoy will not testify against his father's defence. The consequences are too great. Professor Snape, though cleared of charges, was once a Death Eater. Fudge would not allow him as an alibi."  
  
"That leaves Ron and Hermione. Ron owes me a favor. I'll let him do it. But...there's one more person. Pansy Parkinson. She saw me on Monday."  
  
Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"I need some time to read the rest of this, and to take it all in. If it wouldn't be to much of a hassle, could you send Ron, Harry, and Hermione up here. I need to tell them first."  
  
He agreed and left me with my thoughts. If I were to be convicted, I would be sentenced to Azkaban, the infamous wizarding prison. The very thought made me shiver. I dressed and went through the envelope, waiting for them to arrive.  
  
A knock on the door signalled their coming. Harry came inside, looking at anything but me. Ron and Hermione entered, shooting glances at each other. They knew something was happening.  
  
"Okay," I took a deep breath, and motioned for them to sit in the chairs by the fireplace. "I've been accused of kidnapping, and murdering my parents." Harry looked up quickly. His eyes searched mine, and he sighed, knowing it was true. "I'm to stand trial on the 30th of October. Lucius Malfoy is who accused me. He investigated my house, and apparently there's enough information to convict me."  
  
"Lucius Malfoy is a git," Ron said. "I can't believe Fudge is believing that maniac!"  
  
At least they thought I was innocent. It was slightly reassuring. "I need an alibi who saw me at school during the first weekend in September. Ron, you saw me, right?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Well, then, you're my alibi. Hermione, if you would, I'd like you to testify for me. Tell them that you saw me and I was present at school."  
  
"And what about me?" Harry asked quietly.  
  
"I would have you testify, but Fudge seems to think you're unstable. I can't let you. Here's an article Rita Skeeter wrote about the disappearance," I handed it to him. "Here are the written statements from my accusers, and this is the letter from Fudge." I gave them to Hermione and Ron. "If you want to read them, go ahead. I've already read them and reread them."  
  
"I'm going to the library to look for something helpful," Hermione told me. "Ron, come on."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Come on, Ron," she grabbed his arm and dragged him out the door, leaving me alone with Harry. He stood, pulling me into a hug. I rested my head on his shoulder, as he caressed my cheek. A great sadness exuded from him, but also power and strength. He wanted me to win almost as much as I did.  
  
"You'll shove Malfoy's accusations down his throat," he said. I laughed.  
  
"Nice thoughts. I wish I believed it. But I don't see any way for me to win. They have such a strong case. If only I had some way to prove it for certain."  
  
Harry kissed the top of my head, whispering reassurances. After a while, I started to think that maybe there was a possibility that I could win. It would take a lot of preparing in a short amount of time. I only had about two weeks to prepare. I would have to make good use of what little time I had.  
  
"I never thought it could be this bad," I said. "Sometimes I wish I had never come to England. I mean, face it, my life's sucked since I came here."  
  
"All of it?"  
  
"No, but a lot of it."  
  
"Do you realise that if you hadn't come here, Malfoy would still be emotionally incompetant? Not that he isn't still incompetant, but...You've made so many people's lives better, just by being here. My life's certainly been improved since Voldemort's started directing all his focus on you," he joked. I socked him on the arm, laughing. "But it's been one hell of a ride. Are you sure you want to get off here? Or do you want to finish this thing?"  
  
"I'll finish it...I have to."  
  
"All right then. Now come on, you need to get a little bit of food to keep from starving yourself." He took my hand and we headed down to the Great Hall. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven  
  
"Mister Potter, I realise that you want to help Miss Stevens by testifying, but I'm afraid it would only weaken her case. I know that the accusations are false, and I believe Fudge would agree. But Lucius Malfoy is an esteemed member of the Magical community. He works in the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement. This is his area of expertise. Unfortunately, he thinks he has what he needs to convict you," said Dumbledore.  
  
"Then what can I do?" said Harry.  
  
"You can come to the trial. And you can support her by believing that she'll win."  
  
"Harry," I said. "He's right, you know. But if you're there during the trial, I'll be happy."  
  
He nodded resolutely. Professor Dumbledore smiled slightly, amused. "Very well then. I believe that is all to be covered for today. If you think of anything else to add to your statement, please consult me."  
  
"Thanks," Harry and I stood, leaving the headmaster's office.   
  
We went down to the library, where Hermione and Ron were studying quietly. Sitting across from Hermione was...Draco. I hurried over to the table, dropping my bag beside the empty chair before sitting. Draco grinned weakly at me. Ever since he had heard of what his father had done, he had been bearing the Gryffindors' company to help out. Whether or not Ron and Hermione liked me very much, they were determined to help, if it meant Harry was happy. Harry came and plopped down in the chair at the head of the table, seemingly ignoring the fact that his arch-rival was sitting at the same table.  
  
"What'd Dumbledore say?" Hermione asked, thumbing through Hogwarts, a History. Harry shrugged tiredly.  
  
"The usual. I can sit in on the trial, but I can't testify. In other words, I'm pretty useless."  
  
"Basically, everyone's useless when it comes to dealing with my father," Draco said in a quiet voice. "When he does things like this, he makes sure that there's not very much room for him to fail. It's his job. He's head of his division in the Ministry, and he got there by being ruthless."  
  
"And he's a git," Ron added darkly.  
  
Draco merely nodded. Hermione looked at him, almost shocked that he had allowed someone to make a comment like that about Lucius. "Yes, I know. I just don't care anymore--I've stopped idolising my father. The last few years have taught me to see him as he is. A bastard."  
  
"Too true," Harry sighed. "At least you're admitting it now."  
  
Their voices were like drones. "Is it just me, or do you four seem particularly subdued today? You're not even fighting amongst yourselves. And the bored, dull voices only add to that," I said.  
  
"I'm sorry that our level of humour and energy isn't up to your expectations. It's called stress. Get used to it," replied Draco. "And besides, we're worried about YOU. Feel lucky. I care about seldom few things."  
  
"I'm sure Nicole feels gratified that she's on that list. What else does it include? Mirrors, clothes, and hair products?" Ron hissed.  
  
"Now that's more like it," I said, smiling.  
  
They scowled at each other. I took a book from the pile beside Draco's elbow and flipped through it. It was about Ministry cases against juveniles. There was a case similar to mine, but the boy had lost. His punishment was only community service, and his crime had been kidnapping a woman and holding her for a few days for ransom. My supposed crime wasn't nearly as serious as that. I showed it to Hermione, and she agreed. She took the book from me and began taking notes, telling me that she was more reliable when it came to note-taking than I was. So I let her do whatever she pleased.  
  
"Well, I'm off," Harry said. "I've got Quidditch practice."  
  
"We have Quidditch practice? Oh...then I'll go grab my broom," Ron stood and the two best friends left the library.  
  
Draco moved to sit across from me. He touched my hand reassuringly. "I think you can do it."  
  
"I certainly hope you're right."  
  
---------  
  
I dressed slowly, deep in thought. My mind was on the trial and nothing else. Perhaps it was selfish of me not to be thinking of my parents, but I couldn't help it. I then noticed I was missing a sock. I looked around me for the sock, before realising it was on my foot already.   
  
I shouldn't let myself get so distracted, I thought. It's important that I look as if my head is actually attached to my neck. If Lucius Malfoy knows I don't have my wits about me, he'll slaughter me.  
  
Heading downstairs, I was confronted by Ron and Hermione. She handed me a folder, giving me a hopeful smile. "You'll find some interesting stuff inside. I found a few cases like yours that might be important. Try to stay cool."  
  
I thanked her and she went downstairs. Ron said, "I've pretty much got what I'm going to say. Dumbledore's been helping me a little. If you want to look over the notes, or something, I think we have a few minutes. We're out of classes, right?" I nodded. "That's what I thought, but I wasn't sure. So, what do you want to do, Nicole?"  
  
"I think I'll just sit up here for a while and--" I broke off as Harry came downstairs. "I'll be downstairs in a while. Go eat with Hermione, Ron. She'll enjoy your company."  
  
He left as Harry approached. "Morning," he greeted. Noting the manilla folder, he asked, "Notes from Hermione? I thought so. If you want to talk...What time does it start?"  
  
I shrugged wearily, "At nine, I think. We should probably have time to meet in the library or something. I'd rather not even talk about it, but it might be the best idea. It would be so much easier if I could just say I didn't do it, and come back here. But Lucius Malfoy isn't likely to accept that."  
  
"I swear that man has it in for you," said Harry. "It's like he's trying to kill you, or something."  
  
"I know. But let's just try not to think about it for a while. I'm hungry."  
  
He and I headed downstairs, and as we went down the marble staircase, Draco came from the Slytherin dungeons. He rushed up to meet us, surveying Harry with distaste.  
  
"Hey, I got a letter from my cousin today." He handed it to me, "It's got some pretty useful stuff in it, so I'm pretty sure it'll be helpful. I'll see you...later, I guess. Good luck." Draco turned and went back to the dungeons.  
  
Harry and I exchanged looks, as I unfolded the letter. It was from Somnus Malfoy, Draco's elder cousin.  
  
Draco,  
  
I heard about the trial. It's awful, honestly. Lucius and my father have been discussing it, and I've picked up a few things about it. There is some pretty good evidence against your girl Nicole. Honestly, I don't know if there's enough to win a trial, but it would seem so.  
  
Here's some of what I've heard from them.  
  
Lucius says he found traces of blood on the floor, and they are from the Stevens. He saw signs of her being at the home when they were kidnapped. There's mud residue from outside the house, and the shoe size is apparently the same size as Nicole's. I know there's more evidence, but I don't know what it is.  
  
I hope this helps.  
  
Somnus  
  
"Well," I said, turning to Harry, "at least now I know he has some evidence and not just pointless claims."  
  
"Yeah," he took the letter from me and reread it. "'Your girl Nicole,'" quoted Harry. "Sounds almost possessive."  
  
I blushed, "Somnus writes like that."   
  
Harry nodded and we went down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast.  
  
---------  
  
The Knight Bus was a rather bumpy ride. I was finding it rather difficult to keep down my breakfast when I was being jostled constantly. The purple bus was a driving hazard. It was continuously skidding onto the curb or getting in the way of mailboxes, which had to jump out of the way to avoid being squashed.  
  
Harry sat across from me, looking slightly green. Whenever the bus jumped he would cover his mouth as if to stop himself from vomiting all over his seat-it wasn't actually a seat, though. It was a bed, oddly enough. But I ignored this and tried to concentrate on keeping my nerves from getting the better of me.  
  
"When will we get to the Ministry?" Ron asked, sighing deeply and checking his watch. "It's been ages. Why couldn't we have just eaten breakfast and lunch-" Harry turned even greener when Ron said this, "-and then used the Floo Network to get us there?"  
  
"Well, Ron, as I'm sure you would realise if you ever read anything," Hermione said promptly, "Hogwarts is not connected to the Floo Network. It says so in Hogwarts, A History. There is no was to magically get into the castle grounds, other than flying, which isn't considered a magical entry."  
  
He scowled at her. "If you know so much, Hermione, why couldn't you help Harry? He's looking nauseous."  
  
"He's looking nauseated," she corrected. "And there are spells to cure that, but I haven't taken any Medi-Wizard courses, so I might not perform them correctly. If I did it improperly, there could be serious side-affects. I don't want to have Harry being sick all over the bus. Unless, of course, you decided to hop up to clean it, in which case, I wouldn't mind him being sick at all."  
  
Harry's shoulders slumped, as he started to turn a revolting puce colour. "Could we not talk about this anymore?"  
  
Ron and Hermione looked at him, and they became quiet.  
  
"Why are we even bickering?" Hermione asked quietly. "It's not helping anything. I think we should just try to think of something positive and happy. Don't you think so, Nicole?"  
  
I shrugged, "Couldn't do any harm."  
  
She nodded, picking up a book to read. Ron gave her a look, and I contented myself with taking a letter from my pocket. It had been delivered by owl at breakfast. I had read it over and over, but still it made no sense.   
  
Enod mrah on eb lliw ereth dna ti nruter. Ecalakcen munaihtnairoc eht si taht mylicitpo eht fo rotcetorp eht ma I.  
  
I hadn't told anyone about it. Draco had seen the owl, and he seemed to know what it was about. But I hadn't had the time to ask him before I left. Hopefully it wasn't something urgent, or I was out of luck.  
  
The bus came screeching to a halt, outside of a plain-looking building. Hermione stood, and the rest of us followed. We had arrived. Harry gave me an encouraging smile, squeezing my hand.   
  
A wizard came from around the corner, obviously frazzled. He saw us departing from the bed and beckoned us to him. We exchanged glances, but grudgingly stepped over to talk with him.  
  
"I am," he said, pausing for breath, "Riant Montgomery. I shall be your, erm-uh, guide, I suppose you would call it. We knew Dumbledore couldn't send anyone to keep an eye out for you, so I suppose the Minister just decided to have an actual guide waiting."  
  
"Eh, right," said Ron, raising a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
"So, if you'll come with me," Riant gestured for us to follow him, and he led us to a battered-looking phone booth.  
  
"What the hell--?" whispered Ron.  
  
"Oh, shush," snapped Hermione.  
  
Ron glared at her for a moment, before Riant said, "Let's step inside, shall we?" He stepped into the phone booth and started dialing a number. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I somehow managed to fit inside. The man put down the receiver, and a voice said from somewhere, "What is your name and business?"  
  
"I'm Ron Weasley, I'm testifying in a trial."  
  
"Please take the nametag that is assigned to you," she said in her mechanical-type voice.  
  
"My name's Hermione Granger, and I am also testifying."  
  
A nametag shot out, and Ron grabbed for it, only to realise that it was Hermione's. He waited a couple of seconds, before another nametag appeared, bearing his name and the word "testifying." Harry and I stated our names and business, and received our tags.  
  
We headed inside the Ministry. It was amazing. From the outside, it had looked shabby, but on the inside it was like a palace for, well, Law Enforcement and such. The man named Riant took us past many wonderful sights, before having us stopped by a creature who checked our wands. Ron and Harry seemed reluctant to give it up, but they finally relented, giving him their wands, only to have them returned a moment later.  
  
Riant smiled cheerfully at us, before taking us to something resembling a Muggle elevator. He leisurely pressed the button for our floor, and there was an odd prickling feeling running up and down my spine. Harry touched my arm, noticing me shiver. I gave him a false smile, just as the elevator-type thing stopped.  
  
"Here's our floor," Riant Montgomery said happily. "Let's get off now, and we'll fine the Minister and Fudge."  
  
We all pried our way through the elevator doors and followed Riant. We were taken to a well-lit hallway, with three doors on each side of the room. Mister Montgomery pointed at the second on his left, and let us alone. We headed to the door, finally resolving to going inside.  
  
Inside the room stood two people. One, I knew. It was Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater extraordinaire. The second person was a man dressed in a pinstripe suit. He shook hands with Harry and Ron, as if they were long-time friends.  
  
"Harry, Mister Weasley, it is wonderful to see you again. Miss Granger, isn't it?" He delicately shook Hermione's hand. "I believe it's been quite a while since we've encountered one another, hasn't it? The last World Cup, I believe. Yes. Well, you must be Miss Stevens." The man shook my hand-he seemed to be rather fond of shaking hands. "I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. It is a pleasure to meet you, though the circumstances are-er-unfortunate. I'm sure you've met Mister Lucius Malfoy, the Head of the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement."  
  
Lucius stepped forward, an arrogant smirk on his face. He shook my hand stiffly, saying coolly, "Yes, Cornelius. Miss Stevens and I are acquainted. Mister Weasley, Mister Potter-I suppose you are testifying?"  
  
"I'm not," Harry said coldly. "Hermione is, though."  
  
Hermione gave Lucius a smile that was more of a grimace.  
  
"Well, that's lovely. I do believe we need to have a short meeting before we begin. Lucius, who would you like to speak with first? Miss Stevens? Or perhaps one of her friends?"  
  
"I believe I will begin with Miss Stevens," Lucius drawled.  
  
"Ah, yes. Quite right. If you will, document the conversation. It might be useful later."  
  
Malfoy nodded curtly and gestured for me to follow him into a private room. Inside there was a table, with two chair situated opposite each other. I took a seat, as Lucius sat across from me, after laying his cloak and cane across a short bench that was against the wall.  
  
"I know what you're up to," I said immediately as he sat down.   
  
"I am not 'up to' anything, Miss Stevens. Now, if you will answer a few questions…"  
  
"I won't answer anything until you tell me exactly what you've done with my parents. I haven't told anyone, so if they have been harmed in any way, I promise you that I will exact my revenge."  
  
"You seem hostile," he said smoothly. "Is that really how you would like to start out your interrogation? And I don't have to answer any questions. I am interrogating you. When I investigated your home, where your parents were taken from, I noticed footprints going up the stairs. The mud from the prints came from outside the house."  
  
"Well, I would hope it didn't come from inside the house. That would be quite odd."  
  
"Odd indeed. These footprints were small, from a child, most likely. What size shoe do you wear, Miss Stevens?"  
  
"Size seven," I spat bitterly.  
  
He made a note on a paper. "Very well, then. When I measure these footprints, they turned out to be size seven. That is a very odd coincidence, is it not?"  
  
"Not really. Lots of people have size seven feet. I've met at least forty people who do."  
  
"Yes, I suppose that is true. What kind of shoes do you wear?"  
  
"The kind that cover your feet."  
  
"Of course, but I was asking what label shoes do you wear?"  
  
"Different kinds. Nike, TeenWitch, Highlights…I've only had about twenty pairs of shoes in the last three years," I said sarcastically.  
  
"These footprints were from a pair of TeenWitch shoes. Another coincidence, perhaps?"  
  
"I suppose so," I said through clenched teeth.  
  
"There were also traces of blood on the floor. When we ran a test on them, it turned out that they were from a female, 16 year old girl. It would appear that the blood is yours. Do you have any explanation for that?"  
  
"Plenty," I glared at him. "But none that you would care to hear."  
  
"Now, I believe I have substantial evidence to have you sent to Azkaban for five to ten years. As much as it is frowned upon, sending you-a minor--to Azkaban, it is not unheard of. If you would like this to be your attitude, I can promise that you won't stay out of Azkaban. "  
  
"Well, as my life's been hell for the past three years, those Mentoids, or Demontors, or whatever you call them, won't have a very fun time with me."  
  
"Oh, trust me, they will. I can assure you of that." 


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight  
  
---"A woman is like a teabag. You never know how strong she is, until she's in hot water."-Elanor Roosevelt--  
  
Lucius led me out of the room. He was confronted by Fudge's cool stare.  
  
"I am finished with her," drawled Lucius.  
  
"Oh, good. I'll just fetch Madam Bones, then, shall I?"  
  
"Yes, if you would be so kind."  
  
Fudge bustled out of the room, closing the door behind him with a snap. I leant against the wall, trying to look nonchalant and casual. Lucius smirked, keeping his eyes on the doorway. Ron and Harry were speaking in hurried whispers, while Hermione stood by and watched.  
  
The door opened, and a woman stepped in. She wore heavy robes and thick glasses that slid down the bridge of her nose. I was sure that this was the Madam Bones Fudge had been speaking of. Madam Bones nodded to Lucius, as Fudge followed her inside.  
  
"Well," she said, "Miss Stevens?"  
  
I stepped forward, extending my hand to shake. "Hello. Madam Bones, I presume?"  
  
She took my hand, shaking it firmly. "Yes, yes. Now, let us not waste time chattering. If we're to wrap this up, we must begin immediately. If you will," she waved a hand at the door leading to the interrogation room.   
  
I headed inside, and was surprised to find that the room had changed. There were three soft chairs, a small wooden chair in the corner, and a table sat in the middle of the room. Behind the table were three chairs--one each for Madam Bones, Lucius Malfoy, and the Minister. I sat in the cushioned chair positioned in-between the other two. Ron followed, sitting on my left, while Hermione chose to sit on my right. They exchanged nervous glances, as the three adults filed into the room and took their seats. Harry was left to sit in the last remaining seat, which was located in a corner of the room.  
  
"Now, you are Nicole Anne Stevens, is that correct?" Madam Bones asked.  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"And you currently reside at the house in Godric's Hollow, am I right?"  
  
"When I'm not attending school, I live in Godric's Hollow, yes," I replied.  
  
"Were you present at your home, Godric's Hollow, on September 6th?" she questioned, as Lucius glared coldly at me.  
  
"No, I was not. I was at school, at Hogwarts."  
  
"If I may interrupt," interjected Lucius. "The evidence all suggests that she was present at Godric's Hollow on the 6th. Surely, Madam Bones, you are aware of this. I do think I gave you a copy of my findings, did I not?"  
  
She nodded, "Lucius, I am well aware of what the evidence suggests. I, however, would like to hear Miss Stevens' account of what happened. Unless, of course, your evidence speaks, in which case I would be very eager to hear what it has to say."  
  
Lucius looked stunned, but he quickly hid it and resumed to glaring at the walls.  
  
"Did anyone see you at Hogwarts on that day?"  
  
"Yes. Several people saw me. The teachers also could verify my presence at school, but as they are busy teaching classes, Professor Dumbledore saw it fit for me to bring two of my fellow classmates who happened to remember that I was at school."  
  
"I'll get to that in a moment," she said. "Do you remember exactly what you were doing on the sixth?"  
  
"Well...I woke up, dressed, ate breakfast with my friends, as usual. I had a fair amount of homework, so I went to the library to work on it. It's my final year at Hogwarts, and I need all my credits. To get them, I have to work well on all of my homework. So I did homework for most of the day."  
  
"And at around what time did you awake?"  
  
"Eight-ish," I answered.  
  
"What time did you head up to bed?"  
  
"Around midnight."  
  
Madam bones nodded, jotting down a couple of notes. "You say several people saw you at school?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And their names are?"  
  
I thought for a moment, "Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley...I'm sure there are more, but I doubt you want the names of half the seventh years in Hogwarts."  
  
Fudge tapped Madam Bones on the shoulder, whispering hurriedly in her ear. She shook her head, murmured something, and wrote another note.  
  
"May I begin?" Lucius questioned.  
  
Madam Bones waved a hand dismissively, and Lucius stood. "Miss Stevens, what size and label shoe are you wearing right now?"  
  
I glanced at my feet. "Size seven, Hypatian Witchwear."  
  
"What labels do you usually wear?"  
  
"Hypatian Witchwear, Nike, TeenWitch, Highlights, Malkin's Boots...just to name a few."  
  
"And you are aware, of course, that the muddy footprints leading inside your house were size seven, TeenWitch shoes?"  
  
"Yes, I believe you mentioned that once already today."  
  
Madam Bones struggled to hide a grin.  
  
"I was sure I had. Now, there was also a fair amount of blood on the ground where, I believe, Andrew and Lydia Stevens were taken from. The blood, as I'm sure you remember, is from an unidentifiable sixteen year old girl. How old were you in September?"  
  
"I was sixteen. My birthday is on the 31st of this month."  
  
"So, the person who kidnapped your parents was a sixteen year old girl who was wearing size seven TeenWitch shoes. That's a pretty long list of coincidendes, I'm sure you'll agree."  
  
"Wait," I said quickly. "You said there was a lot of mud on the shoes--didn't you?"  
  
"Yes, why?"  
  
"Well, on the 6th it wasn't raining. It hadn't rained for a few days. At my house we don't have a watering system--as it rains so often. But the ground out there dries quickly. There wouldn't have been mud on anyone shoes--not unless the had deliberately wet the ground to get mud on their shoes. Which would be a stupid idea, unless, of course, they wanted to be caught. If I had done something like that, I would want to be caught. My whole issue with this is that I didn't do it, and whoever did do it obviously wanted me to be blamed for it."  
  
Madam Bones stared at me incredulously. Turning to Lucius, she said, "She has a point, Lucius. There was no rain anytime near the 6th."  
  
"That's--"  
  
"Why don't we give her Veritaserum?" Madam Bones suggested. "It's not a fool-proof method of testing, but I know of no underage witch or wizards who has managed to lie after taking Veritaserum."  
  
Lucius turned a nasty shade of puce, but agreed nonetheless. Fudge offered to go get a vial of the Veritaserum from the supply cabinet, and I was left to look inquiringly at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  
  
"Hermione," I whispered, "what's Veritaserum?"  
  
"Truth potion," she answered shortly.  
  
"Why do I have to take it?"  
  
"I don't know. I was under the impression that Veritaserum was only used in adult cases, but perhaps I was mistaken. Anyways, it will prove your innocence once and for all, and then we can get back to school. Maybe we won't have missed too much of Charms."  
  
Ron leaned forward, glaring at her. "How can you talk like that? The reason we're here is more important than classes. We're here to help Nicole in whatever way we can. And...well, taking Charms won't help her anymore than beating Lucius Malfoy over the head with a stick. Actually," he paused, tilting his head to the side. "Never mind. Beating Malfoy over the head with a stick would be a good idea. Anybody got a stick?"  
  
Lucius inclined his head, obviously hoping to overhear our conversation.  
  
"Well, Ron, you know you need more credits than you have if you're going to pass this year. Honestly, it's as if you just don't care at all. The only important thing is helping Nicole. Don't you remember--I'm your girlfriend. I matter more. But, then again, you were never very supportive of me when I needed it."  
  
Ron was indignant, "Excuse me, Hermione, but you're not the one standing trial for kidnapping your parents. I don't think you need very much support. Unless you want me to support you while you have an attitude adjustment, and then I'd do it. Until that's the case, I'm not helping."  
  
She shrugged, not making eye contact. I looked over my shoulder at Harry. He was staring at Lucius Malfoy with loathing, and Lucius was staring right back. When Harry saw me looking at him, he raised his eyebrows at me.  
  
"Come here," I said. "I need to talk to you."  
  
He stood and came to stand behind my chair. "Yeah? What's up, Nicole?"  
  
"Well, Ron and Hermione had an East Ender's moment, and I need someone to talk to. Fudge said they're going to give me Veritaserum. Hermione said that was the truth potion. I know it'll prove my innocence, but how will it prove it?"  
  
"You'll take it, and then they'll ask you a few questions."  
  
"What do you think they'll ask?"  
  
"Probably things like: 'were you at your house on the sixth?' and 'did you do it?'. I don't know for sure. We should just sit back and wait. After all, your innocent, so what does it matter? They could ask you if you hid your parents in the boys locker rooms at Hogwarts, and it wouldn't matter. Because you didn't kidnap your parents, you didn't murder them, and they certainly aren't shoved in the locker rooms at Hogwarts."  
  
"Okay," I replied. "Thanks, Harry. You can go back to glaring at Lucius now."  
  
He smiled at me and returned to his seat, just as Fudge entered the room. He handed the chrystal vial to Madam Bones, and she shook it.   
  
"All right, Miss Stevens," Madam Bones said. She came to me and I opened my mouth obediently. The liquid poured inside my mouth, and I struggled to swallow it. It burned the roof of my mouth, and seared my throat as it went down. I felt a churning in my stomach, and a voice in my head said, Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies. My body slammed into the back of my chair, and I felt myself pass into unconsciousness.  
  
Where were you on the sixth of September?  
  
'I was at school,' I thought sleepily.  
  
Have you been home since school began?  
  
'No.'  
  
Did you have someone go home for you, to kidnap or murder your parents?  
  
'No.'  
  
Did you kidnap your parents?  
  
'No.'  
  
Did you injure or murder your parents?  
  
'No.'  
  
Someone was shaking me. I opened my eyes, and found that Madam Bones was smiling at me. Fudge looked at me, and nodded. But Lucius was livid. His cheeks were a dark pink, and he glared at me. Harry pulled me up from my chair, embracing me.  
  
"Well, then. I think that is it. Thank you, Miss Stevens, for being so polite and cooperative. You have very good friends--hold on to them. Now, Fudge, don't we have another trial soon?"  
  
"Ah, too right we do," he replied. "Now, Lucius, I do think this girl deserves an apology for the mistake."  
  
Lucius' cheeks turned even darker as he said, "I regret the mistake. The Ministry sincerely apologises for endangering your reputation."  
  
He turned and exited. Madam Bones and Fudge took us out, and left us with Riant. He seemed happy to see me again. Apparently, they had been making bets on how long it would be before Lucius ripped me to shreds.  
  
Well, I was betting I didn't have long to wait.  
  
-----  
  
I basked in the midafternoon sunlight, lounging against a tree. One either side of me sat the two people I loved most.  
  
"Potter, like I've been telling you for the past hour, if you want to tame that hair you need a gel. I don't use gel anymore, it dried out my scalp too much. But I think if you used it, it might not do the same to you, as your hair is kind of rugged."  
  
"You're sure about that? I didn't think to use gel...I'm not really critical of how I look, so I just assumed leaving it was fine."  
  
"No, Potter, leaving it is not fine as you so eloquently put it. You have to do something about that matt of hair." I looked at either of them, laughing. "What?"  
  
"You're talking about hair products, when usually you wouldn't even speak to each other. I should be the one asking 'what.'"  
  
Harry smiled, taking my hand, "Well, what do you think about my hair?"  
  
"It's black," I replied. "It's unmanageable. It looks like you've been standing out on the Quidditch Pitch for half an hour without a hat."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I like it."  
  
"So you like his hair, but you don't like mine?" asked Draco, offended. His hair curled in pale golden loops at the nape of his neck.  
  
"Your hair is perfect, Draco, and it always has been. Now can you possibly think of anything interesting to talk about, because if you can't I'm going."  
  
"Er..." Both boys looked at each other.  
  
"I'm going now," I stood. "This is just pathetic."  
  
Draco rose too, but Harry just shrugged and waved at him to follow me if he wanted. I headed toward the Quidditch Pitch, as Draco ran to catch up. I stopped, waiting for him. He caught me up and we walked side by side.  
  
"So, you out-thought my father, did you?"  
  
"Yeah. He obviously hadn't thought it all the way through. I was lucky. I was really lucky."  
  
"And you noticed that...when? You've always been lucky," he said, "you've just failed to acknowledge it."  
  
"All right, tell me why I was lucky."  
  
He made a disbelieving noise. "You've escaped from the Dark Lord at least twice. You have the picture-perfect family situation, minus the fact that my father kidnapped them. Oh, and you also have the perfect boyfriend."  
  
"And you, right? I've got you, which makes me lucky. Admit it--you were about to say that."  
  
Draco stared at the ground, "So what?"  
  
"I pity you. You can't even hide your emotions."  
  
"You know, that's your fault. Before you came I could," he announced, meeting my eyes. "You've burrowed into my head, so now I can't get you out. I can keep what I feel secret from everyone, except you."  
  
I laughed harshly, "Oh, that just screams pity-me-Nicole."  
  
"Damn it, girl," he said angrily. "It's your fault, and you're laughing at me because of it. How dare you? I have half a mind to just leave right now and--"  
  
"Throw a tantrum?"  
  
"I hate you," he stated in a bland voice.  
  
"Of course you do. The only problem is, you see, that I don't hate you, and you know it. So why don't you just get over it? You're giving me a headache."  
  
He stopped, glaring at me, and then turned around and headed back to the school. Sighing, I ran to stop him. I stepped in front of him, saying, "Okay, you win. I won't laugh at you. I'm sorry. I was just...joking."  
  
"You just don't get it, do you? I want to hate you. I want it badly. But you're everywhere I turn. I can't stop loving you, even though I want to hate you with as much passion as I love you. Except...I just can't."  
  
"You're sure this is me we're talking about?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure," he growled. "Now may I go back to trying vainly to hate you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Ugh," he pushed me out of the way and continued up to the castle. He left me standing, staring after him as he stomped angrily up the steps and went inside.  
  
---  
  
At dinner, Lucius Malfoy was the most popular topic for discussion. The students chatted endlessly about his trying me for kidnapping. Draco left the Great Hall early. I made my excuses and followed after him. He was heading into the Prefects' Room, so I ran to catch him up. But he was gone through the door already.  
  
Glancing around to make sure I was unseen, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. There was a long hallway that led to a large room. I walked quietly down the hall, and paused when I heard voices.  
  
"It didn't work, Pansy. Get over it. He'll come up with another plan, like always."  
  
"But--what if they go back and do some research on the crime scene, or whatever? They'll find out that it was my blood, and my shoes, and that I helped with the kidnapping! Oh, I should never have agreed."  
  
"Oh, excuse me? So you're saying you'd rather die than help kidnap them? Well, personally, I'd take the kidnapping any day. But if--"  
  
"Shut it, Draco. Tell your father the deal's off. I'm not helping him with any more of these stupid plans. She always finds some way to worm out of it."  
  
"I won't tell him a god damn thing. You tell him if you're so determined to. I'm not going to endanger my life for yours. I wouldn't do that for anyone, you most of all."  
  
Pansy made a rude noise. "You'd do it for her. You know it. You've fallen in love with her again. I thought you said you were over it--over her. I'm beginning to think you're terminally ill. No one will believe me when I tell them you've been snogging the--"  
  
"Pansy," Draco spoke only her name, but it was in such a voice that she stopped immediately. "If you tell anyone that, I'll kill you. No, I'll torture you first, and then I'll strangle you to death. She's just a girl. And I haven't been snogging her. You misinterpret everything. She has no power over me."  
  
"Except that you love her."  
  
"Pansy."  
  
"Draco, just admit it already. You're in love. I can see it in your eyes, I can tell it in the way you move, the way you smile when you're around her is totally different from usual. It's so obvious, even Potter knows it. He doesn't like it, but he's willing to put up with it so long as nothing happens between you two."  
  
He slapped her, and she fell to the floor.  
  
"Don't talk about what you don't understand, Parkinson."  
  
I glanced around the corner, and saw her glaring at him from the floor. Her lip was bleeding slightly. He stood over her, scowling dangerously.  
  
"The girl!" Pansy shouted. Draco spun around, catching sight of me. I ducked back into the hall and ran down the hall. He followed me, his long legs carrying him further faster. Catching me around the waist, he pulled me back down the hall. I kicked him, hard, and he groaned. Pansy grabbed my arms and yanked on my hair.  
  
"Ouch!" I said.  
  
"Pansy," said Draco warningly. "Don't make this worse than it is already." He pushed me onto the table in the centre of the room, and held me there by the waist. I punched him in the stomach. "Ugh," he groaned. "Pansy, get out. I'll deal with Miss Stevens on my own."  
  
She nodded and headed out. Draco pulled me off the table and shoved me against the wall.  
  
"I hate you," I whispered venemously. "You're evil, you're stupid, and you're mean. I hate you. You're just like your father."  
  
He pulled me from the wall just enough to slam me back into it. "Shut up, Nicole. You don't know anything. You don't know anything about anything and you sure as hell know nothing about me."  
  
"Whatever," I hissed. "Maybe I don't know anything about you. So what? Now let go of me." I struggled against his hold. He pressed me against the wall, bending down so close to my face that there was barely a centimetre between us.   
  
"Tell me why you followed me in here. Why?"  
  
"I wanted to talk to you."  
  
"But you followed me? I never--you shouldn't have come inside. You're not allowed, and you know it. I swear, you're entirely dense."  
  
"I'm not dense, you're just stubborn and pigheaded. Let me go."  
  
He closed the space between us and lightly kissed my lips. I gasped, pulling back into the wall, but I couldn't wriggle out of his grip. Draco pressed his advantage, moving his hand up to my face and snaking his arm around my waist. I let my eyes close and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He pressed me against the wall, uttering a soft moan into my mouth.   
  
"I'm sorry," he said softly after pulling away. "I'm sorry I said...but it's just...you know you act like you hate me sometimes. You make me feel like you just don't care, like you're constantly laughing at me. I can't stand it." He ran his thumb along my jaw, his breath soft on my face. Bringing me back to him, Draco kissed me with a furious passion and urgency. He pushed me hard into the wall, almost lifting me off my feet.  
  
"Do you hate me?" he whispered. "I--"  
  
"No. No, I don't hate you. I love you, really I do."  
  
"Y-you love....me?"  
  
"But," I said slowly, "right now, I just love Harry more. I'm sorry that I've made your life hell, I'm sorry I've made you weak. It's just...I didn't mean to. I've got to go." Pushing him away, I ran from the Prefects' Room and up to my dormitory. Falling onto my bed, I cleared my mind as best I could, and fell asleep.  
  
*~*~Dream~*~*  
  
Draco sat on his bed, ruffling his hair with his hands. I stood, leaning against the door. He smiled at me; a warm, caring smile. I watched him as he rose, making his way towards me. Without knowing what I was doing, I walked towards him and met him in the centre of the room.  
  
Taking my hands, he pulled me closer.  
  
"You came..." he whispered hoarsely.  
  
"Of course I did," I replied, even though I hadn't meant to speak at all. My voice sounded velvety and completely unlike mine.  
  
"I love you so much," he said, kissing my cheeks and then my forehead. "Do you love me?"  
  
"I love you more than I thought was ever possible," my voice said. Had I just said that? Then I realised that it was Draco's dream. Whatever his mind wanted me to do, I would do, whether or not I wanted to. Draco grinned, tilting my chin up and kissing me.  
  
He led me to the bed, pushing me onto it and straddling my waist. I reached up, playfully trying to push him off. Draco laughed softly, holding my wrists with one hand and caressing my face and neck with the other.  
  
"This can't be real," he breathed.  
  
It's not, I wanted to say. But my dream-self only said, "It's real, Draco. It's so real. You're too good for it to be a dream."  
  
He smiled, his hand travelling down my cheek, down my throat, across my shoulder, and then down my side.  
  
"I've wanted this so much, for so long...but you've never--you've never let me get this close. Why wouldn't you let me?"  
  
"I loved you too much. I was afraid."  
  
"Do I make you nervous? Frightened?"  
  
My dream-self nodded fervently, "You always have."  
  
"So..." he leant down and kissed my throat, where my pulse was pounding a violent tatoo against my skin. He let his other hand wander down my body, finally stopping at my waist. I pulled him down, our lips meeting. "This is a dream," he moaned after coming up for breath. "This isn't real. You'd never..."  
  
You're right, Draco. This isn't real. Get off me, I though viciously. However, Draco's subconcious was determined to satisfy his wants. "No, Draco. This is real."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
I woke up, breathing harshly. Mentally shaking myself, I pulled a robe on. He was dreaming about me. But he had woken up suddenly, and I had a creeping suspicion that he was going outside.  
  
I ran down the stairs and threw myself out the portrait hole. My feet hit the stone floor with resounding thuds. I heard the front door close softly, and I continued my pursuit.   
  
Once I was out in the cold night air, I took a moment to find him. He was already half way to the lake. Running to him, I was surprised when he suddenly collapsed against a tree by the lake. When I was only a short distance from him, I called, "Draco!" He looked up, before returning his gaze to the floor. His cheeks were a pale pink colour. A blush.  
  
"Go away," he muttered. When I made no move, he repeated it.  
  
"No. Draco, we have to talk. Tell me about this thing your father wants. The Corianthianum. What is it? Who made it? What does it do? And after that, tell me why I'm having your dreams."  
  
"Oh, gods and goddesses, you saw?"  
  
"Yes, I saw. I was in my body, and I had no control over what I did or said."  
  
He groaned, "No..."  
  
"Yes," I yanked his wrist, "now tell me what I want to know, or I'll give you a verbal beating."  
  
"The Corianthianum? It's an Opticilym made by Salazar Slytherin when he was alive. It does lots of things. It intercepts dreams of people who are close to the wearer. It also controls or destroys people."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Now about the dream--"  
  
"No, no...tell me what they plan to do with it."  
  
"They're going to kill Potter, I thought you knew that by now."  
  
I nodded, saying, "I did know, it's just...I had to hear it for myself. So...what're we going to do?"  
  
"Now it's 'we' is it?"  
  
"Draco, you know you and I have always been a 'we,' so stop being stupid. You're going to help me...I can't tell Harry what's going on, so could you? It--" I broke off. Draco was staring at me with a look that resembled bewilderment. I frowned at him. "That's a really odd expression." He kept staring at me. "Okay, now you're just frightening me."  
  
Draco took my hands in his, looking straight into my eyes. I could feel something stirring in my chest, and my instincts said to pull away. But another part of me didn't want to go. He was staring at me curiously.  
  
"Draco, you--"  
  
"Shh," he whispered, stroking my cheek. He ran his thumb across my lips, and I closed my eyes. Colours flashed in my head: red, blue, green. Draco pulled me closer and kissed me gently. "I'm sorry. I can't help you. This whole thing...it's one big mess. I can't do it, not again. I'd be endangering everything I love."  
  
"Everything?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
He fell silent, wrapping his arms securely around my waist. I locked my arms behind his neck and rested my head against his shoulder. He kissed my cheek, saying, "Like you. I can't be the cause for your harm."  
  
"I'm in harm's way no matter what you try to do. Just," I looked up at him, "please, do what I ask."  
  
"But I love you--I can't...I can't let you be hurt."  
  
"Love is full of hurting, Draco. You can't help it if I get hurt along the way. I'm asking you to do this for me, because I love him. I love Harry, and if he's hurt, I'll be hurt worse. It's not that I don't love--"  
  
"Don't say it. Don't make this harder for me. Tell me you hate me."  
  
I shook my head, saying, "Why? No, never mind. I wouldn't do it even if you had a reason."  
  
He kissed my forehead. "Say you hate me and let me go."  
  
"What if I don't want to?"  
  
"What if I want you to?"  
  
"You don't," I replied.  
  
"I asked you to do it, so obviously I do."  
  
"I hate when you do that," I said.  
  
"That wasn't quite it," Draco admonished. "You hate me."  
  
"No--"  
  
"You hate me," he said.  
  
"But--"  
  
"I hate you," he said finally.  
  
"I love you."  
  
"That's the opposite of what I wanted you to say," he groaned.  
  
"Draco Malfoy, I love you."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Make me," I quipped.  
  
He shoved me back, turning and walking away. For the second time that day, I was left staring after him, more confused than I had been before. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine  
  
Harry sat me on his lap, entwining his hand in my hair. He smiled at me, pulling me into a hug. Resting his hand on my leg, he murmured, "Happy birthday, Nicole. You're seventeen now. What are you going to do to celebrate?"  
  
"Mm...I don't know. Any ideas?"  
  
"We could go down to the lake, and maybe I'll give you your birthday present," he replied.  
  
"I have a present?"  
  
"Always."  
  
"Oh, okay. Let's go, then."   
  
I stood and Harry followed. He took my hand and led me out of the common room. It was almost ten o' clock in the evening. Harry took me outside, taking me to a small boulder by the lake. I sat, and he stood in front of me.  
  
"All right...here's your present. I knew that there was something missing from it, so I got Draco to help a little. He seemed pretty eager, for someone who hates me. But..." he took a long box from inside his cloak and held it out to me. "I tried not to go overboard with it, but it might be a bit flashy for your tastes."  
  
I took the box and opened it. Inside was a beautiful white gold bracelet with a heart charm on it. I flipped the latch to open the heart locket. One picture was of Harry. He smiled and laughed, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. On the opposite side was a picture of Draco, who was smirking dangerously. Between them was a smaller frame, which carried pictures of my mother and father.  
  
"Oh, spectacular," I breathed. "That's...wow."  
  
"Draco wanted to come, but he had something unexpected come up."  
  
I put on the bracelet, and hugged him tightly. He nuzzled against my neck, planting soft kisses where my pulse throbbed. Then he brought his lips to mine, and gave me a soft kiss.  
  
"Harry," I whispered, "you know we can't do this out here. Let's go inside to..."  
  
"Just a little fooling around," he said quietly. But then he froze, staring behind me.  
  
"Wha--"  
  
"Don't move," he hissed.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Vampire," he replied shortly.  
  
"Oh no," I said. "It's Halloween."  
  
"Run." Harry took my hand and pulled me off the rock, trying to put as much distance between us and the vampire. I looked back, but there was no one behind us. We kept running, but the doors of Hogwarts seemed to get further and further away. Something grabbed me from behind. I screamed, and Harry lunged at it, fighting it. My wand was up at the castle.   
  
"Harry, your wand!" I shouted.  
  
He fumbled for it in his robes, but a large black shape appeared behind him. It got out a dagger and pressed it against Harry's throat. He paused, leaving his search for the wand. Whatever was holding me hissed something in another language and drew a sharp fingernail along my neck. The creature that was holding Harry answered in a sharp tone, but still in the foreign language.  
  
"Ah," said a voice in my ear. The accent was heavy, like the creature was from Romania, or some other European country. "It is a seer. And the One who carries the Corianthianum? Very nice." It licked my neck.  
  
"Ew," I growled. "You licked me."  
  
"I tasted you; there's a difference."  
  
Harry could only watch from a distance.  
  
"Damian," the other creature hissed. "She is not yours."  
  
"Give it a rest, will you? It was only a taste, I did not bite her," Damian replied. "Besides, you have the Boy. He probably tastes just as good as she does."  
  
"But you do not see me tasting him, do you?"  
  
"Ah, well. What are we to do with them now, Xander?" asked Damian.  
  
The vampires--I assumed they were, as they were speaking of biting people and tasting them--seemed to consider this for a moment. Damian, the one who was holding me, continually stroked my neck with a sharply-filed fingernail. After a moment or two, I became tired of waiting and slammed my elbow back into the vampire's gut. He hissed.   
  
I dove at the vampire opposite me, and knocked the knife out of his hand. Harry grabbed my hand again and we ran top-speed towards Hogwarts. Damian was following fast behind us, and though I hadn't even seen what he looked like, I had an odd feeling that his eyes would be glowing red. As we reached the front steps, Damian lunged at me, and we both toppled forward, my head hitting the pavement with a sharp crack that resonated through my body. I felt sharp fangs sink into my neck, and the pain drifted away from me, as did my consciousness.  
  
---  
  
My head felt like it was split in two pieces, straight down the middle. I opened my eyes, and everything was blurry. Someone leaned over me, their long, pale silvery-blond hair falling onto my neck.  
  
"Xander!" he shouted, causing me head to throb. "Xander, she is awake!" From the accent I knew it was Damian. Another vampire entered the room. Damian let out a sharp bark of laughter. "My, my, my, if it isn't Raine. Brother, how are you?" Damian stroked my neck with his nails.  
  
"Do not touch her," Raine hissed. "Or did Xander not remind you? She is not yours. Draw blood, and I assure you the Dark Lord will find out."  
  
"Ah, right," Damian said. "Fine. So, what are you doing here, Brother?"  
  
"I'd prefer if you didn't mention I was related to you...or, at least, I was when I was alive. It's a scar on my reputation."  
  
"Of course," Damian sighed. "Raine, the girl is awake. What do we do with her? And if I ask the Dark Lord for more of her blood--"  
  
"Wait a moment, you've had some of her blood? How? When? Did you have permission?"  
  
"Yes, I've had some blood from her. She was running and I had to use it to dull the pain."  
  
"Sit," Raine commanded angrily. "Explain."  
  
"Well," Damian said, smiling wickedly, "Xander and I had caught them, and she got away and so did he. So we chased them, and I took her to the ground, but she hit her head. To keep her from feeling too much pain, I bit her. It helped."  
  
"I'm not so sure of that, but...I'll let you deal with telling Lucius why she's got two holes in her neck. But for now, I'm going to let you do something else that will actually help her. I want you to heal her concussion, and then I want you to go to Lucius and explain what happened when you arrived at Hogwarts. I talk to Lucius, so if you've lied or glossed anything over, I can assure you I'll find out. And if I find out, I can promise you that it won't be a pretty sight."  
  
Damian nodded, brushing his hair out of his face. To me he looked like an elf from the Lord of the Rings movies, except his eyes were black. This was Raine's brother? I shivered.  
  
"Raine," I muttered, trying to sit up. "My head. It hurts."  
  
Damian sighed again, and sat beside my bed. He touched my temples, and I felt a coldness wash over me. His hands were freezing against my face. A warmth spread to the tips of my fingers, and it was a welcome relief from the cold.  
  
Oh, relax already, his voice said inside my head. I'm not hurting you, am I? No? Then relax and stop your heart from pounding like that.  
  
His hands dropped from my head, and he turned to Raine. "Good enough for you?"  
  
"Of course it is. Now go tell Lucius why you're looking so flushed. I'm sure he'll agree it makes for quite an interesting story. If he's not just overly pleased with you, I won't think too much of it if you don't return very quickly. So go on, and tell Lucius to have fun."  
  
Damian flinched, but nodded reluctantly. He turned and left the room, his cloak billowing out behind him. Raine smirked, sitting in the chair Damian had vacated. He was dressed in all black, and his cheeks had a chalky pallor.  
  
"I apologise for him. Damian has always been rash. He knew he wasn't supposed to feed off you, but he doesn't care for rules and bounderies very much. I've tried to impress upon him the importance of following the rules when you're working with Lucius and the Dakr Lord, but it never seems to work. If he hurt you, I'm sorry. He healed you, though, so you should be fine."  
  
"Is healing a special vampire-talent or something? Because, you know, I always just thought most of them were evil and heartless."  
  
"Most of us are. Damian is a strong vampire, and he can heal people well. I'm strong too, but I didn't choose to be able to heal when I got my strength. Instead, I chose to be able to travel in the Underworld. While Damian can transform shapes, as I can, he cannot always move in the Underworld. It's only on Halloween that he can do that."  
  
"That's tonight."  
  
"Yes, which was one of the reasons the Dark Lord chose for him to transport you tonight. There are other reasons for his timing as well, but I'm sure you'll find those out incredibly soon. It's almost time for the ceremony. In fact, they should be bringing Harry Potter up to the Ceremonial Chamber soon. I think we should get you changed into something a little more suitable for a ceremony. The robes you are to wear are..." he grabbed a package from the foot of the bed. "Right here. I'll leave you to change now." He left the room.  
  
I stood, and unwrapped the package. Inside was a pair of dark purple robes. Casting them aside, I inspected the room, hoping to find some way out. The room was adorned in dark maroon and green. Like Christmas, except...it felt more like Deathmas. There was a window beside the bed. I pushed it open and peered out. I was on the second floor.  
  
Casting around for a way to lower myself down, I immediately spotted the bedsheets covering the king-size bed. I yanked them off and twisted them together. Tying them together, they were long, but not quite long enough. I rummaged around, and found a plain sheet under the beed. I knotted those together and tied one end to the bedpost. Then I threw the bedsheet-rope out the window and, holding tightly to part of it, crawled out.  
  
Lowering myself gently, I hoped there were no first floor windows that someone might see me from. I climbed down slowly, finding odd footholes in the ancient bricks. Within a few minutes, I was only seven feet from the ground. I decided that this was where I got off. I let go of the rope, falling to the ground. Then I ran towards what could only be the exit--I could see the tall, black metal ironwork of a gate.  
  
Running as quickly as I could, I found my way to the gate quickly. Pulling it open, I ran through it and continued on my way towards freedom.  
  
---  
  
By the time I stumbled into town, I knew that it was very late. The neon sign above a closed car-wash said it was 2:13. I needed a place to sleep. I needed help. And I needed a wand. All of these things seemed positively unattainable.   
  
The nearest building to me was an abandoned car shed. I went closer to inspect it. The shed was large, and derelict. No one had been there in ages. I entered, and found an old toolbench. It would have to do. Lying down, I fought back tears, and slept.  
  
When I woke up, the sun was pouring in the cracks in the walls. My back was stiff, and it took me a moment to remember where I was and how I had gotten there. Sitting up, I dusted myself off and decided to seek aid from someone in town. If I was lucky, I could hitchhike to London.  
  
The daylight nearly blinded me. It was a warm day, and the sun was shining brightly. I shivered, despite the warmth, and began walking. Across the road was a fast-food place, and beside it was an ice cream shop. Neither looked particularly hopeful to me. So I continued onward, finally deciding to stop at a petrol station for directions.  
  
A young man stood behind the counter, taking a drag of his cigarette. I grinned weakly at him when he spotted me, and asked, "Er...I seem to be lost. Could you tell me how far it is to London? I don't have any money." He frowned.  
  
"Did someone beat you up?" the man questioned curiously. "Because...well, you don't look too good."  
  
"Uh," I searched around for an answer. "Well, you see, I rode with a friend of mine, but he didn't want to take me any farther. He dropped me off here, and only after he'd left did I remember I'd left my purse in his car. So I don't have any money, or anything."  
  
"American?" he asked, pulling some money from his pocket. I nodded. "I thought so. You're accent's not too pronounced, but it's there. You live near here?"  
  
I shook my head, "No, I live near London. But like I said, this place might be near London and I wouldn't know. I have no clue where I am. The guy I was with, well, he sort of just shoved me out of the car. Left me sitting in the dust."  
  
He nodded, handing me some money. "That should get you home to London. I'll call a taxicab if you'd like."  
  
"Oh, yeah, thanks a bunch. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't get to London."   
  
Picking up a phone, he dialed a number and spoke a few quick words into the reciever. Then he placed the phone back down and said, "It'll be here in a few minutes. You can sit and wait. If you want some water, I'll get you a cup. It's tap water, but it tastes fine."  
  
"No, thanks. I would, but right now I just want to go home."  
  
The cab came soon, and I thanked the man once again. Hopping in the car, I forked over the money and said, "London, please. Lincoln Drive." Lincoln Drive was situated a few streets from Godric's Hollow. It was a Muggle neighbourhood, which meant that my presence wouldn't make any trouble.  
  
After about half an hour, I was on Lincoln Drive. Stepping out, I watched the cab disappear over the horizon. Then I started home. Within minutes I was stepping in the door. Mud was caked all around the doorway. I turned slowly, my footsteps echoing in the silence. Everything was as it was supposed to be. Except that the entire house was empty.   
  
The staircase leading upstairs was covered in obvious muddy footprints. I stepped around them and went upstairs. My legs were refusing to move properly. It was a if something told me not to go into their bedroom. But my mind won out, and I reached out for the handle. Without even touching it, the door swung open.   
  
I immediately wished it hadn't. A brown coating covered almost everything. The walls had splatters of blood across them, and the white carpet was stained. Blood drops had been smeared across the bedspread. The mirror across from the bed had a bloody message scrawled there.  
  
'First the light, then the love, and last of all the heart. Beware the danger.'  
  
I backed out of the room, wanting to run from the house, but knowing that there would be something to keep me there. Some distant part of me wanted an explanation, but another part of me desired only to sink to my knees and sob. But neither of these things would satisfy me. I wanted payback. If Lucius Malfoy wanted to play dirty, then I'd play along.   
  
He could not have known the monster he had created with his sadistic plan.  
  
---  
  
The money I had stolen from my parents' stash jingled merrily in my pockets. Soot covered my hair from the Floo trip to Diagon Alley. But I was not happy, and I didn't care that I was dirty. What I cared about most was payback.  
  
I bought a new wand first, and then I set about getting a few books on curses. The shop keepers didn't ask about my appearance, or why I wasn't in school. Something about the angry glare in my eyes must have stopped them from speaking. My stomach rumbled hungrily, but I ignored it and headed down the street to Knocturn Alley.   
  
This place was shady and dark; I would not usually want to be seen here. But at the moment I didn't care particularly about any of that. I entered a store with a sign hanging in the window that said, 'Dangerous Creatures.' Inside, all sorts of animals resided in cages. I immediately went to the front desk and rang the bell impatiently.  
  
A frail looking man entered, squinting feebly at me.  
  
"Yes?" he asked.  
  
"I want an animal that will be fiercely loyal to it's owner. But I want it to be dangerous and completely capable of defending it's owner."  
  
"We have some Dragars," he said. "They are a type of cat-like creature. Here, let me show you." He went into the back and brought out a large cage. Inside was a small animal shaped like a cat but covered in dragon scales.  
  
"Wonderful," I said. "I want two of these. Do the scales have any magical properties?"  
  
"Ah, a good question. If you pluck a scale and say 'accendia' it will explode. They also deflect most spells. And they are fiercely loyal to whomever owns them. If you tell them to attack, they will."  
  
"Illegal?" I questioned.  
  
"Not quite. They're a fairly new species, and the Ministry hasn't had time to ban them yet, what with all the...uprisings they've had to deal with." He grinned toothily at me.  
  
"Yes, well, here's money." I handed him a few galleons."  
  
"They are forty galleons a piece."  
  
"Too bad. This is what you're getting, unless you'd like the Ministry to find out about them."  
  
He nodded quickly, and handed me the two cages. I took them and headed to the fireplace. Casting the powder into the flames, I said, "Malfoy Manor." If I had stayed a few seconds longer, I might have heard him say, "She's out to get him, that one. Lucius had better watch out. Dragars..."  
  
After much spinning, I had arrived. I glanced around me, seeing only a dark room lined with bookshelves. I twirled my wand between my fingers, after setting the Dragars onto the floor. Opening the cages with a tap of my wand, the Dragars came out and immediately began clawing at the furniture.  
  
"What a bonus," I smirked. "They do home-wrecking as well."  
  
I opened the book of curses and spells, searching for a locator spell. Upon finding it I said, "Locatius: Lucius Malfoy." A long thread of silver burst from the tip of my wand, creating a map in midair. Over it words read, 'Malfoy Manor.' Lucius was a little green dot moving around the second floor. I did another locator spell to find out where I was, and surprisingly I was standing in the room Lucius Malfoy was heading towards.   
  
Kicking the Dragars' cages across the room, I sat on the chaise and stretched out nonchalantly. Inspecting my new wand, I played with it between my fingers. The door burst open, and Lucius Malfoy stormed in, looking livid. He didn't spot me at first, but when he did he let out a sharp hiss.  
  
"Bonjour, Malfoy," I drawled. "Had fun trying to track me down?"  
  
"Not entirely," he said, his hand searching inside his robes for a wand. I shook my head at him, waving my wand and cursing him with a freezing charm.  
  
"That was a rather stupid thing to do, don't you think?" I asked, smirking evilly. "After all, you kidnapped my parents and I'm trying to kill you. I think we're almost even. But not quite. I believe I invited you to dinner, didn't I? Oh, must've forgotten to. Well, here's the whole catch about that dinner thing. You see, you're on the menu. My Dragars are starving, and I don't think you'll give them nearly as much indigestion as Voldemort might."  
  
Lucius' eyes widened, staring at the Dragars wildly. I unfroze him, and said to the Dragars, "Welcome to dinner. Master Malfoy will be your main course. I'd get your wife, too, but you see, your son loves her. So I think you'll have to do until I can get Voldemort. A little indigestion won't kill them."  
  
The Dragars lunged at him, and he tried to curse them away. I laughed, "Mister Malfoy, surely you know that their scales deflect spells, don't you? Oh, damn. I must've forgotten to tell you. My bad."  
  
"What do you want?" he shouted.  
  
"I want my boyfriend back, I want my parents returned safely, and I want you and the Dark Lord to die very horrible deaths. I'd also like a pedicure and a doughnut, but I don't guess I can have everything I want. Right now, at least."  
  
He gave me a look, trying to kick the Dragars away. They only fought back harder.   
  
"I'll get your parents for you. If you'll just call these things off, I'll do it."  
  
"Sorry, guys, I guess you'll have to forestall your meal a little longer. Lucius, get my parents, and bring your son from Hogwarts. He and I need to have a little chat before I kill you. And if you think I won't kill you, just try me."  
  
He nodded and disapparated. I relaxed, and the Dragars began demolishing the furniture again. I called one of them to me, and stroked it's scales. Where a spell had hit it a scale had chipped. The Dragar seemed not to care about it.  
  
"You two need names," I said tiredly. "How about Rose and Snowflake?" The Dragars growled at me. "All right, fine, Death and Destruction." The nearest one purred, falling over and ripping up the bottom of the chaise.   
  
"Lucius ought to be back soon. Then you two'll have a nice meal. I just hope Death Eater meat isn't naturally poisoned." 


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten  
  
Draco looked mildly confused when he stepped in. It was obvious that he hadn't been told the entire story. I waved, making a deliberately false smile. He saw me and seemed to recoil.  
  
"You summoned me? How the hell did you manage to summon me?"  
  
"Hi, honey, nice to see you too," I returned, laughing harshly. "Sit," I said, pointing at the chair across from me. He sat, still looking positively bewildered. "Now, would you like the long and short of the story, from various points of view, or would you rather I just blurt it all out?"  
  
"Huh?" he asked, confused. "What story?"  
  
"Well, it's not the life history of Robespierre," I said. "And since I just know that's what you were thinking, I'll just tell you instead of making you lose several brain cells trying to figure it out. I'm talking about what's been happening in the world at the end of the summer."  
  
"I lived through this summer, I think I know what happened," Draco said, immediately defensive.  
  
"No, you don't know the whole story. There's more to it that what you know or than what you think you know. Because, you see, this is rather like a fairytale. Except, there's a little problem with this fairytale. Any guess what the problem is?" I paused, watching his facial expression turn from disbelief to a state of what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-this-picture. "No? I didn't think you'd know. But it was work giving you a shot just to see that look on your face."   
  
"What is your problem?" he asked exhasperatedly.  
  
"Now you're on the right track. My problem Draco, my darling, is that your father is indeed a bastard and a coward. He didn't kidnap my parents. Oh, no. I know that it's amazing, but it's true. He didn't do it. Now, that false bravado he might have shown you--the whole I-conquer-all attitude--was just that: false."  
  
"Shut up," he whispered, in a childish, frightened voice.  
  
"You know, I'm starting to think you inherited that cowardice gene. But, never mind that. At the end of the summer, Harry stayed with me. We had a picnic, blah-blah-blah. I stumbled upon a little thing...a ruby necklace. I had no idea what it did. No clue whatsoever. I don't quite remember if I ever told anyone about it, but I do know that it wasn't a huge topic of discussion.  
  
"Well, the Dark Lord wanted it, which means your father wanted it as well. He, being the sadistic bastard that his is, came up with a little plan to get it from me. But here's where that cowardice kicks in. Lucius didn't want to be caught kidnapping two perfectly respectable American immigrants. So, he had someone else do it. Who would possibly do something like that for him? Do you know, Draco?"  
  
He shook his head slowly, obviously trying to find out what I was getting at.  
  
"Surely you know more than that. In fact, I'm sure you do. Because he asked you to do it. More likely than not, he phrased it so that it would look like you were really helping the Dark Lord entirely. He probably told you that it would raise your social standard within the Dark community considerably.  
  
"But, my darling friend, this is where everything goes wrong. You turned him down. Why? Why would you turn down such a deliciously evil offer? Because, for one, you loved me. You knew how hard it would be to face me if you had. So you told him no. But here's the part where I become extremely displeased. You told him another of your fellows might be delighted to help him. Crabbe and Goyle would do well, and so would a girl. A slytherin, seventh year, sixteen year old girl whom you know very well. Pansy Parkinson.  
  
"That cowardice gene had kicked in now, hasn't it?" I asked innocently. "Wanting to turn and run, are you? I don't particularly blame you for that. But I do blame you for many things. What I blame you for may be questionable, but I'm sure you'll be astounded once you hear the rest of this fucked-up fairytale."  
  
"Shut up," he repeated. "Stop it. Don't do that. I know what happened, all right? I know perfectly well. I lived it. I experienced it. It was hellish enough then, I don't need a verbal reliving of it now. Why don't you just tell me you hate me and get on with it?"  
  
"Oh, darling," I said, smiling. "But that's what you want. You're going to hear me out, and I'm not letting you leave until you have.  
  
"So Lucius sent your three 'suggestions' to kidnap my parents. He also came up with a perfectly diobolical plan. Pansy was sixteen, wasn't she? She had small feet, like mine, didn't she? So he had her step in mud and stomp all around my house, making it look like an intruder had come inside, tracking mud in. However, your two cronies botched the plan. They stepped in the mud, too. They followed Pansy, the leader of the operation, their footsteps making large, muddy prints in her wake. Your father luckily excluded that bit from his initial Ministry report, did he not?  
  
"Well, while Pansy was up there, she made small cuts along the backs of her arms, letting blood drop everywhere as she wrestled with my parents. Crabbe and Goyle screwed up, though. They made fools of themselves. Instead of using wands to subdue my parents, they beat them up. Because, as we well know, those two can't do a god damn thing with a wand, other than use it in bad nasal habits.  
  
"That's where lots of the blood comes from. But Pansy's blood, while it could not be traced back to her individually, was still able to tell that she was a sixteen year old female. Another cunning part of Lucius' plan. So, I suppose, that's the story. There is more, of course, but you more or less get the gist of it, don't you?"  
  
He was massaging the bridge of his nose, his eyes scrunched closed in an effort to block me out.  
  
"Gods and goddesses," sighed Draco.  
  
"And the devil between," I replied. "Now, really, I think you need to give me an explanation. As much as it would pain me to have to kill you, don't think that I won't do it. I'm having some serious mood swings, and at the moment, I'm feeling bloodthirsty and slightly homicidal. Sounds like that time of the month, eh?"  
  
He stared at me blankly.   
  
"So?"  
  
"What do you want me to say? 'I'm sorry, babe, it'll never happen again, with the exception of weekdays and Sundays'? It's not like I have a heart, you know."  
  
"To me, it sure doesn't seem like you do."  
  
"Well, get over it. I have a heart, amazingly. It beats. It pumps blood. I'm sorry that I was thinking mainly of self preservation at the time, but, guess what--I didn't want to die! My father wouldn't have any qualms about killing me. He can make another heir, no problem. Maybe he'd like that. Maybe the next one wouldn't malfunction and fall in love. Whatever the case, I wanted to stay alive. So, if that's not a good enough explanation, then kill me, and spare me from the pain that is loving you, because everyone knows it would be a blessing."  
  
"That is absolutely stupid. Damn. Draco, if I didn't like you so much, I'd murdur you right now. The truth is, I lied--I probably wouldn't have killed you. But...don't mention that to Lucius. When he gets back, I intend to send a little message to the Dark Lord."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Sorry, but you're going to become the Master of Malfoy Manor a little quicker than planned."  
  
"You're going to kill him?"  
  
"No, they are," I pointed at Death and Destruction, the Dragars. "He already has some nasty green scratches from them, I do believe. But, well...you said it already. He's evil. I don't think he deserves to live."  
  
"Neither do I, but is it really our choice? If he's supposed to die, then won't something happen to him that'll kill him?"  
  
"I don't know. But I'm starting to think that the Higher Powers have abandoned me. I'm taking things into my own hands now. He dies. Today. If I'm going to make everything right again, I can't just sit around doing nothing. So I'm acting. Action produces results. And what I want right now is results, plain and simple."  
  
He nodded resolvedly. "All right. It's your choice. But, just so you know, even if the Higher Powers have abandoned you," he leant forward, taking my hand, "I'm still here. And if you kill him, you'll have all of the Death Eaters after you. The Dark Lord doesn't take things like that well."  
  
"You know, Draco, I think that's where you're mistaken. I think the Dark Lord would admire my bravado. He tends to think people who take action for themselves have a sort of courage. That's why he likes your father so much. At least, that's why I think he likes your father so much. I don't think it's for Lucius' people skills."  
  
"No, I doubt it."  
  
The door opened, and Draco jumped. I glanced towards it. Lucius stood silhouetted in the doorway. He stepped back, waving two people in. I stared at them for a moment. They were almost unrecognisable. I was frozen in my seat. Draco pulled me up by the wrists, and led me over to them. My mother stared blankly at me, her eyes glowing dully from her hollowed eye sockets. She didn't recognise me.  
  
"What did you do to them?" I asked slowly.  
  
"Nothing," Lucius growled.  
  
"Screw that, there's something wrong with them. Both of them. They don't even recognise me." My father looked at me, his eyes hooded by heavy eyelids. They were filthy, their robes covered in grime. Their hair was matted, and neither of them moved very much.  
  
"Father," Draco said pleadingly, "what is wrong with them?"  
  
"Insanity got the best of them. Neither could handle the stress of being locked up, so--"  
  
"Malfoy," I growled, turning angrily on him and shoving my wand in his face. "Be prepared for death, you evil, sadistic, coward. Say hello to pain." He gazed levelly at me. "Crucio."  
  
Lucius fell into a kneeling position, making no sound. His face was contorted in pain.  
  
"Nicole, no!" Draco pulled me away, trying to wrestle the wand from me. "You can't use illegal--"  
  
I elbowed him and pointed my wand at him. "Avada Ke--"  
  
Draco stood in front of his father, looking shellshocked and frightened. "Nicole, I'm sorry. But...not like this. Some other way, maybe, but never like this. I can't let you. I know how much you want to, but not like this."  
  
Lucius shoved Draco out of the way, and Draco stumbled into the bookshelf, his head smashing painfully against the ancient wood. He sank to his knees, his hands pressed to his head.  
  
"If she wants to do it, let her do it, boy."  
  
"No, he's right. I want you to suffer. Death and Destruction, here's your meal. Bon appetite." The Dragars bounded at him, pouncing and tackling him. I rushed to Draco, and knelt beside him. Blood poured from between his fingers, which were cupped around his nose. He was fighting back tears, as he had learned to do over the years of abuse.  
  
"Draco, what's wrong?"  
  
"My nose," he said. "It's broken." It came out my ose; is boken.   
  
I nodded, "All right. Get up. Let's see if we can't find someone who can do healing--"  
  
"Nicole!" he said suddenly.  
  
"Wha--" Something heavy slammed into my head. My vision blurred, and I lurched forward, clutching at the bookshelves for support. I recieved another blow to the head, and blood trickled down my neck. Lucius, for he was the only one who could have attacked with such force, wound his fingers in my hair and dragged me backwards by it. I shrieked, feeling as if every strand of hair on my head was burning.  
  
"Endsville, is it not?" Lucius hissed. "I think we can call this the end of Nicole Stevens. Any last words, girl?"  
  
"Yeah," I replied. "Duck."  
  
"Duck?"  
  
"Yes," I said. Draco slammed a heavy crystal into Lucius' head. He stumbled forward, letting go of me. I pointed my wand at him and said, "Yes, Lucius. Death will be here for you soon."  
  
I nodded at Draco, and he led my father out. I took my mother by the arm, and followed him.  
  
---  
  
Dumbledore surveyed my parents sadly. He had been staring at them for the past half hour. Draco looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time. I was forced to content myself with fiddling with the little silver intsruments in Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Miss Stevens, Mister Malfoy," he said. "Go to bed, please."  
  
"But what about Harry?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," Draco said, shaken out of his trance-like state. "What about Potter?"  
  
"He is in no immediate danger."  
  
"He's with Voldemort," I said. "That constitues danger in most everyone's mind."  
  
"Without the Opticilym, he is in no danger. The Dark Lord knows what it will take to defeat him, and the Opticilym is the only thing that will serve his purpose well. Now, go to bed and try to sleep."  
  
Draco consented, and I followed him out, shooting one last look at Dumbledore before leaving. He had promised to keep my parents until he had found a suitable place for them to stay. I could usually trust Dumbledore, but I didn't want to leave them. Draco could tell.  
  
"If you don't watch where you're going," he whispered, "you'll end up smashing into a wall. That'd actually be really funny, now that I think of it. But...no."  
  
"Where are you going?" I asked him suddenly.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, I'm going to the Gryffindor dormitories, but you're following me. So where are you going?"  
  
"I'm walking you to the Gryffindor Tower."  
  
"Why?" I asked incredulously. "I know where it is. It's just up here, behind the portrait--" I broke off. "Wait, are you just going so you can find out where out dorms are and what the password is?"  
  
He shook his head. "No, I'm being a good boy, and trying to be nice. Besides, Head Boys are supposed to be 'courteous and gentlemanly.' So I'm being courteous and gentlemanly," he replied, offering me his arm. "Isn't it a welcome change?"  
  
"You ooze sarcasm," I replied, threading my arm through his, like the 1800's version of holding hands. "And it's not like you. I think I prefer the real you. You know, that one who thinks the sky is purple and the sun revolves around himself. That's the Draco I'm used to. That's just who you are."  
  
"No," he said. "It's not purple. The sky, I mean. It's orange."  
  
"Whatever," I replied. "Now, leave me here. I'm not showing you where the dormitories are. Turn around, and leave."  
  
"I know where they are already. It's not a big secret. Don't make me leave. I don't want to."  
  
"But I want you to," I said.  
  
"Fine," Draco smirked. "But don't expect me to always trail after you. It's a complementary service that I only give when my father's done something like this. And if you have your way, there aren't going to be more of these problems. So, no more following after this?"  
  
"No more following," I said. "Goodnight."  
  
Draco nodded and left, walking quickly. I allowed myself a few moments to watch him go. He didn't look back, but I knew he could sense me watching him. It unnerved him, somewhere beneath that cool exterior. Once he was out of sight, I started on my way to the Gryffindor common room.  
  
As I neared the entrance, I saw someone standing in the shadows beside the portrait. He saw me, stepped out of the darkness, and smirked. I stopped, glaring at him.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Waiting for you."  
  
"No following, remember? We said no more following after this. So why are you following me?"  
  
"I didn't. If you remember, I came in front of you. Technically, you're following me. But why split hairs? It doesn't exactly do a lot of good. And, by the way, gentlemen never leave before their beautiful girls are back safely."  
  
"You're considering yourself among gentlemen? Ha. Ha, ha, ha. That's funny. Really it is. But, the problem is, I'm at Hogwarts. I'm safe. So leave."  
  
"You were at Hogwarts the other three or four times you were kidnapped, so I don't see where that makes you immune from danger. I also happen to be looking out for you. If you really don't want me to, I guess I could just leave. But I'm trying to help. Just because you don't like the attention does't mean it's not necessary."  
  
"Necessary?" I shook my head. "No, that's not it. You're just trying to get me to let you come in with me. I know you too well."  
  
"You don't know me at all," he hissed. "You've only seen one side of me. I can assure you, there is much more to me than you choose to see. If you doubt that...well, I won't even try to dispute it with you. I'm not in the mood for the kind of earthquake that would cause."  
  
I raised my eyebrows. "Are you saying that after three years I don't know you? That's a good one. I resent that."  
  
He shrugged, taking my hands in his. I began to pull away, but his voice stopped me. "Look, I'm sorry. I mean, I'm not really sorry, but it seems like the right thing to say. I'm tired, you're tired; it's been the longest day of my entire life. I don't want to argue with you when my witty comebacks don't even sound sarcastic. Good night. Get some sleep." Draco kissed my cheek and walked past me.  
  
I turned and grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Thanks."  
  
"What?"  
  
"For arguing with me."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it made me remember that at least that won't change, no matter what else does."  
  
He grinned slightly. "Let's hope it doesn't." 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven  
  
I was called out of class to visit the Headmaster. It wasn't surprising. After all, I'd left him with my parents. When I arrived at the office, I was confronted by the cool grey eyes of none other than the soon-to-be lunch for my Dragars (who were staying with Hagrid, as he was so fond of dangerous things). Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Professor Dumbledore sat behind his desk, gazing at his phoenix with a kind of sad amusement. I stared at Lucius, before turning to Dumbledore. He was still sitting there, resting his chin on his palm.  
  
"You called, Professor?" I asked as politely as I could manage.  
  
"Yes, Miss Stevens," Dumbledore said, shaken out of his thoughts. "Please sit, if you will."  
  
"I'm fine standing," I replied. Dumbledore nodded slightly.  
  
"If I may begin, Dumbledore?" said Lucius. "Yes. Miss Stevens, are you aware that some of the students have been spreading rumours about you around the school?"  
  
I shrugged, "It happens to everyone. The students like to talk. It's what they do best. I'm not all that surprised that they talk about me. In fact, I'd be more surprised if they didn't."  
  
"Ah, yes. These rumours are fairly new, some being outrageously silly and others bearing significant fears and concerns. They regard several things, one of the most popular being the trial. The others are not important, and regard only to your private life, which is no concern of the school's."  
  
"I haven't heard any rumours about my private life," I said, a hint of wicked humour lacing my words. "Do tell me what they say."  
  
"That is not what I came here for."  
  
"No, I'm sure it isn't. But I'd still like to hear these other rumours."  
  
Lucius made a disgusted face, grudgingly replying, "They involve certain affairs between you and Harry Potter, among other boys."  
  
"The other boys being whom?" I questioned, my eyes alight with spite. "I only have one boyfriend."  
  
"If you must know," he hissed, "my son is amongst your supposed admirers. Those are the only two of whom I have heard tell. Now, the other rumours, about the trial. Some students have become worried of what you are capable of; they wonder if you are to be trusted with being let roam free about the castle. No one wants an incident. These students have notified their parents, who have, in turn, notified the school governors.  
  
"We are worried about the safety of the students. For your safety, and for the safety of others, we have decided to appoint you a Guardian who will watch you and follow you to all of your classes. There will be no time when you are out of the company of your Guardian. This is an approved plan of action; it was a unanimous vote.  
  
"The Guardian the governors have chosen is Dolores Umbridge. She works at the Ministry of Magic. Though some people think her innapropriate to keep watch of you, the governors decided that it was for the best. Miss Umbridge will arrive later this evening, and you will have a one hour session to discuss things. If you have any questions, you may ask me now, or you may ask Miss Umbridge later."  
  
"I don't have any questions," I replied, smiling dangerously. "But, remember not to eat too much meat. Indigestion, you know." I patted my stomach and winked at him. "It would be terribly painful."  
  
Lucius scowled, deep furrows appearing between his brows. He nodded once at Dumbledore, and strode out of the office. His shoes clicked audibly against the pavement as he left. I sank into the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, mentally exhausted by the tension. Fawkes flew across the room to the window. He pushed it open with one talon and soared out. I wanted to escape as he could. A useless dream.  
  
Dumbledore surveyed me sadly, his blue eyes showing no definite emotion, but his aura--or whatever it was--betrayed his sadness.  
  
"I have notified Mister Malfoy of this new situation. I suspect, though I could be wrong, that he will walk through that door in approximately twelve seconds." He and I stared at each other for several seconds, when the door opened sharply. "Thirteen, excuse me." I grinned, despite my unhappiness.  
  
Draco stood in the doorway, looking annoyed. Then he saw me and came inside, giving me an apologetic grin.   
  
He sat beside me, sighing heavily.  
  
"What exactly has happened this time?" he asked Dumbledore. "The governors decided...a Guardian? Now that's hardly fair. Just because Parkinson started that ridiculous rumour doesn't justify giving someone Guardianship. Who is the Guardian, by the way?"  
  
"Dolores Umbridge," I answered.  
  
Draco tilted his head to the side. "You know, that's not a half-bad choice. They could have picked someone worse. Of course, the fact that you're friends with Harry Potter won't help you much. But she's reasonably fair. Well, if she likes you, that is. Professor, what exactly did the governors say?"  
  
"You're interrogating the headmaster," I said. "When did you start getting to do that?"  
  
He gave me a look. "Since I became the responsible Head Boy."  
  
"It is perfectly all right, Miss Stevens. He has a right to know. The governors decided that the students could be at risk from Miss Stevens' explosive temper. Yes, I believe that's how they put it. Some of them claimed to be worried about the safety of the students. They worried that, even though Miss Stevens was not proven guilty, she might still be fairly dangerous."  
  
"Dangerous? She's not dangerous. A little unfortunate with all her dealings with the Dark Lord, but certainly not dangerous. If that's what they're worried about, then I think there is room to overrule them. Don't you agree? And we can overrule the governors, am I correct?"  
  
"Though I agree, arguing with the governors would be a bad decision on my part. If Lucius and the rest are determined to install a Guardian, then the best idea is to sit back and let everything unfold as it should. Interference at this point...no. It would not be fitting."  
  
"It's unjust. Surely you can't agree with them? The governors don't have the right to do this. If they wanted to do the school some real good, they'd be working about how to get Potter back. Without him, we're virtually awaiting the death sentence."  
  
"Draco, calm yourself, if you would," Dumbledore said. "It's not necessary to tell me these things. I know that Mister Potter is important to the school, and to the Wizarding world. I am also aware that without him we are waiting for the next move. But we hold the last pieces of the puzzle. With the remaining things we have, we hold a slight advantage. You know this. But the advantage is very slight. If we lose an inch of ground, then we will fall behind again. And it is imperative that we not do that. You saw, no doubt, the consequences of our previous loss."  
  
I looked between them, puzzled. Draco glanced sideways at me, his hand squeezing the chair's arm tightly. He was frustrated by something. But he understood what Dumbledore had said. I turned back to Dumbledore.  
  
"Professor, I'm completely clueless as to what you're talking about. It's confusing me...puzzles, pieces, moves? It sounds like a chess game with people as players."  
  
"I will let Draco explain it to you after your session with Miss Umbridge. Until then, suffice yourself with knowing that you will soon understand everything. Draco, if you keep on squeezing that armrest, it'll break."  
  
Draco flushed slightly, staring at the floor and clasping his hands in his lap. I gave him a smile, patting his arm. He jumped at my touch.  
  
"Sorry," he apologised. "I was distracted."  
  
"Obviously," I replied.  
  
"Now, Miss Stevens, it is almost dinnertime. As soon as you are finished eating, please meet Miss Umbridge in the library. Draco, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to speak with you more. Are you willing to miss some of dinner?"  
  
"Yes," he answered immediately. "I'll see you after your meeting with Umbridge. Don't lose your temper with her at all costs."  
  
I nodded and left. While I was on my way down to the hall, I spotted the portrait of the dragon that led to what I referred to as the Founders' Chambers. It was the set of rooms Harry, Draco, and I had stayed in last year when we had arrived at school a few days early. I stepped up to the portrait, while the dragon in the frame yawned.  
  
"Draco...lunar?" I said, trying to remember the password. The dragon shook it's head quickly. "Luna, right? It's got to be luna. Draco Luna."  
  
The dragon grinned toothily, swinging forward on its hinges. I stepped inside. A long hallway led down to the main room. Without thinking, I walked into the main chamber. It was lit by magical golden light that seemed to emanate from the ceiling. I barely paused and continued into the green-decked room that had been Salazar Slytherin's. Though I had never, in my memory, been inside this room, it was familiar. Maybe it was only familiar because it was furnished like Draco's room. But I began searching around the room, looking for something, anything.  
  
The dresser across from the bed looked to be a promising hiding place. I pulled out the drawers, rummaging through the masses of fabric and papers. In the middle drawer a small black book had been shoved under the clothes. Instinctively I knew it was what I was looking for. Opening it, I saw what I had hoped for.  
  
The Corianthianum is hidden. None of them will ever find it. They suspected I had created it, but none of them ever realised the full danger of my Opticilym. Ro's dreams became increasingly frantic after awhile, so I knew there was some large amount of pressure being put on her by Godric. Were it not for her tell-tale stress, I would not have known to hide it. But luck was on my side, and I managed to hide it at the ancient hollow that Godric calls his own. He has no idea of the chamber. I shall work to keep it that way.  
  
Ro, my darling Ro, is being forced to cooperate with Godric. Helga is pushing her also. Though I love Helga dearly, she is losing faith in me quickly. I hoped for better of her, but my hopes, unfortunately, seem too high. I do not know how I shall get rid of Godric, but get rid of him I will. He should begin saying his goodbyes soon.   
  
I fear, despite my confidence, that I may be leaving the school soon. Young though I am, I can sense that an end of some sort is coming. What end it may be is unknown. Let it remain unknown for a little longer. I can only hope that no innocent soul happens across the Corianthianum in my absence. It is a deadly weapon and an even deadlier curse. I knew of these burdens when I created the Opticilym. But even then I could not have been prepared for the curse that comes with bearing the Corianthianum. If some innocent does come to harm from it, may I be struck down in my path. The Corianthianum is my fault, and my cross to bear. Unfortunately, I must deal with the school's issues first. They are the immediate danger.  
  
Godric is calling. He has business to discuss with me. It does not bode well for me. Should I arm myself against any surprise attacks? Most likely it would be a good idea, but I will not. If they spotted a sword at my belt and no attack was planned, I would be signing my own death warrant. It is not a pleasant thought, but it is true. How unfortunate that the truth is most often unpleasant.  
  
Now I really must be off. Godric becomes impatient in a very small amount of time. To any who read this, may you wish me no ill will as I wish you none.  
  
Salazar Slytherin  
  
I read it quickly. Most of it was useless information. But one sentence kept returning to mind: But even then I could not have been prepared for the curse that comes with bearing the Corianthianum. So it was cursed? Or living with the intercepted dreams was a curse? It explained very little, but I could probably find a little more in the next pages.  
  
Stuffing it in my bag, I rearranged everything my search had displaced. When the room met my standard for clean, I headed out. It was almost time for dinner. After dinner I had the meeting with my Guardian, and then the little chit-chat session with Draco. Neither of these seemed particularly appealing. However, I had little choice in the matter.  
  
Dinner soared past. It seemed to last only a few seconds, when in reality it had been an hour at least. Draco came to take me to the library, and I followed him reluctantly. Despite every assurance that this Umbridge woman was moderately fair, I knew that it probably would turn out a very unhappy experience for me. Once in the library, Draco left me. I sat at a table, drumming my fingers on the wood in a rythmic pattern.  
  
A very large woman entered. She reminded me of a particularly ugly toad. Waving her pudgy hand at me, she sat across from me. Umbridge began taking some files out of her bag, while I watched. She placed the file folders in between us, snapping the clasp on her bag shut.  
  
"Hello, Miss Stevens," she greeted in a girly, highpitched voice. I felt ashamed to even think of it as a girly voice--it was an insult to all the girls in the world.  
  
I nodded, saying, "Hi. You must be Dolores?"  
  
"You may call me Miss Umbridge," she said.  
  
"Yes. Well, hello."  
  
She cleared her throat, "Hem, hem...I am your assigned Guardian. I have been appointed by the school governors to watch you and take notes on your behaviour. Any aberrant behaviour on your part will result in immediate documentation and reporting to the school governors and the headmaster. After a set amount of time, as of now undecided, I will--depending on your behaviour--be allowed to leave. Do you understand?"  
  
"Perfectly."  
  
"At no time may you be out of the company of your Guardian, with the exception of restroom breaks and nightly sleeping rituals."  
  
"Do you mean getting undressed, or do you mean actually sleeping?"  
  
"I mean both. However, if you leave your bedroom during the night, I must be notified so that I may accompany you. If you choose to ignore the set boundaries and rules, the school governors will be immediately notified. Any time you break the rules, you will be reported to the governors, and my stay will be extended another week. Is this clear?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
She smiled at me, opening one folder delicately and extracting a few pages. "These are information sheets for you to look over. They involve past Guardianships, as well as the rules and regulations for being a Guardian. There is also a sheet on what it takes to become a Guardian, and another sheet on the process of becoming a Guardian. I require that you read them, and when you are finished I would like for you to read the rest of the notes."  
  
Umbridge handed me the papers. I took them from her, trying my hardest not to glare at her. The papers were so organised it made me sick. But I read them anyway.  
  
Guardians and Guardianships of the Past  
  
Guardians have been a common way of monitoring possible student-threats for over a century.   
  
The first Guardian was a man by the name of Callistus Gerontius. He was appointed to monitor Nerissa Lucia. Nerissa Lucia was seventeen years old when her Guardian was appointed to her. Lucia was born of a vampire and a succubus, and she had been known to seduce the male students and then bite them. Her Guardian kept a close watch on Nerissa Lucia, and she showed many signs of bad behaviour during Gerontius' year of Guardianship. When she graduated from Hogwarts, Callistus Gerontius was no longer her Guardian, but because of his notes on her behaviour, she was watched by the Ministry of Magic. This eventually saved a man's life, because Nerissa Lucia had seduced him and nearly killed him.  
  
The next Guardian was Gytha Hadley, in 1896. She was the Guardian of Aidos Iolanthe, who was suspected of murdering his History of Magic teacher. Though Iolanthe was never convicted, he showed a violent nature that worried the professors. They worked to get a Guardian, and because of Gytha Hadley's presence, the Head Boy at Hogwarts was not killed by Iolanthe. Iolanthe was imprisoned in Azkaban for the rest of his life.  
  
Serina Athanasia was Taryn Tate's Guardian. Athanasia was appointed Tate's Guardian because Tate was pyrokinetic. Tate showed not only a fondness for fire, but she also possessed a passion for setting people on fire. Serina Athanasia prevented many disasterous incidents, and Tate's behaviour soon improved. Taryn Tate became an Auror for the Ministry of Magic, and she never used her fire-power on any innocents.  
  
I looked up at Umbridge, who was smiling placidly. Returning the paper to her, I inhaled deeply and counted to ten. I would not lose my temper with her. I would NOT lose my temper with her.  
  
The next pages was entitled: Rules and Regulations.  
  
1.) Guardians may never harm the student.  
  
2.) Guardians must never insult or degrade the student.  
  
3.) The Guardian has the right to punish the student in whatever way he/she sees necessary.  
  
4.) Guardians may never infringe on the student's privacy, unless the Guardian believes there is a possible threat in that situation.  
  
5.) The Guardian must report any and all aberrant behaviour (on the student's part) to the school governors and the Headmaster.  
  
6.) Never may a Guardian stray from the student, unless the student is a) sleeping or b) showering, bathing, etc.  
  
7.) The Guardian must have a room directly beside the student's room, or in the closest suitable position.  
  
8.) During mealtimes, etc. the Guardian must sit no more than three seats from the student.  
  
9.) The Guardian may make an inquiry of other students about the Guardian's student.  
  
10.) The Guardian may accompany the student during school activities, but the Guardian may never accompany the student to his/her home, etc.  
  
I returned the paper to her and began the next.  
  
Guardian Requirements  
  
1.) The Guardian must be approved by all of the school governors.  
  
2.) The Guardian must be a responsible adult who has had experience with students.  
  
3.) The Guardian must be a fully qualified witch or wizard.  
  
4.) The Guardian must not be related to, or emotionally involved with the student.  
  
5.) The Guardian must never become emotionally involved with the students.  
  
6.) The Guardian must be employed with the Ministry of Magic, or with the student's school.  
  
7.) The Guardian must have graduated from school with all credits.  
  
8.) The Guardian must have graduated from school at least ten (10) years prior to Guardianship.  
  
9.) The Guardian must pass an Aptitude/Ability Test approved by the Ministry of Magic.  
  
This paper I shoved across the table at Umbridge, who still had a smile on her face. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that I was glaring at her. I skimmed over the next page, and handed it to her.  
  
"There you are," I said. "I've finished reading."  
  
"Very well then," she replied. "I believe our hour is up. My Guardianship starts at eight o' clock tomorrow morning. Until then." Umbridge gave me a smile and headed out. I slumped in my chair, yet again forced to wonder why my life was so unhappy.  
  
----  
  
Draco showed up later. He was late, and I had been waiting for over half an hour.  
  
"Something came up," he said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to leave you waiting for so long. But let's not talk here. Would you like to take a walk? Less chance of being overheard."  
  
"I guess. What was so important that you had me wait for almost an hour? Did Goyle blow up your cologne supply again?" I teased, noting the strong odor of cologne that emanated from his robes.  
  
"Actually, yes. Goyle was trying to curse Crabbe for stealing his picture of Snape in jeans, but the curse hit my cologne bottle and--" he made an expressive gesture with his hands, "--it went everywhere. I was going to take a shower and try to get some of it off, but I didn't want you waiting even longer, thinking I had magically enlarged my head or something."  
  
"That's more of an explanation that I needed. So, what is it that Dumbledore wanted you to tell me?"  
  
"Well, there is quite a bit to say, actually. I'm not sure where to start, because all of it is crucial and if you don't understand something...it could be deadly. I'll try to explain it as best I can. If you need more explanation, then I'll try to clarify anything I can."  
  
"All right."  
  
Draco sighed, then began, "You have the Corianthianum necklace. It is an Opticilym, created by Salazar Slytherin a few years before he was murdured. Slytherin had it in his possession for about a year before he hid it in Godric's Hollow. No one knew it was there, though they knew he had created something of the sort. You found it this summer. You now own it.  
  
"The Opticilym was created as a weapon, and as a way to intercept others' dreams. When Slytherin created it, he intended to use it to protect him. By intercepting Ravenclaw's dreams, he was able to keep himself out of trouble with the other heirs for a few months. After a while, the Founders' began to suspect Slytherin of making an Opticilym, or something like it. Slytherin kept it for a few months longer, and then he was forced to hide it and run. Gryffindor found him eventually, and killed Slytherin.  
  
"Because of Voldemort's relation to Slytherin, he will be able to use it to his advantage. Though you possess the Corianthianum, you could not use it as a weapon of mass destruction. You can, however, intercept dreams. Voldemort can use it for both purposes. Or he could, if he had it.  
  
"Which brings me around to the fact that he doesn't have it, and you do. We, that is to say, Dumbledore and the whole Order along with him, need to keep it that way. So we can't put you in danger, either. Because if you were captured, and held for ransom, then we would either have to trade it, or let you be killed. And trading it would mean destruction for the entire wizarding world, while letting you be murdured--" he glanced sideways at me, "--would be almost as bad."  
  
"For who?" I questioned. "The world? I doubt that very highly."  
  
"I never said that," Draco replied. "But there are other matters to discuss as well."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"I know you're worried about Potter," he said. "But you shouldn't be. No harm can come to him without the Corianthianum. So, while Voldemort is without the Opticilym, he's safe. Dumbledore cast a protective charm over Potter to be sure of it."  
  
"Is that all?" I asked.  
  
He shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding.  
  
"And I'm supposed to do what with this information? Is it supposed to inspire me, or something? Because, really, all it's doing is making me feel even guiltier for letting him go, and for being glad--" I broke off, coming to an abrupt halt. Draco stopped beside me.  
  
"For what? Being glad of what?"  
  
"Never mind."  
  
"I won't," he replied, taking my arm and leading me over to a window alcove to sit. "Tell me what you're glad of."  
  
"It's none of your business. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have just gone to my dorm and sulked, like I usually do."  
  
His eyes softened, warming slightly.  
  
"I want to know, though. It may not be any of my business, or it might. But may I be the judge, please? It would be far more appealing."  
  
"Just know that what I was going to say has been weighing on my heart for a while now. That should content you. I can't tell you what I was going to say. It's not something I want to get into with you. If I ever find the right time to tell you, then I'll tell you."  
  
"It has something to do with me. That's the only explanation for your discomfort. Unless, of course, you were the one who stole Goyle's picture of Snape, in which case, I'd rather not know, thanks. But it's not, is it?"  
  
I shrugged, walking around him. He caught my arm and locked eyes with me, saying, "Tell me."  
  
"No."  
  
"Tell me. Now."  
  
"Make me."  
  
"You wouldn't like that," he said. "If you won't tell me, we'll play a guessing game until I guess right. Which would you like better?"  
  
I shook my head, refusing to speak. He tilted my head up. "No games. Tell me."  
  
"I don't see why I should."  
  
"It could eventually save your life, you know."  
  
"Fine, fine, fine. But if it seems to you like I'm...well, you see...erm, this isn't east to say...but I won't lead you on...I feel guilty for letting Harry go, and I always feel guilty because I have this sick sort of joy that he's gone. Because he's gone, out of the way, you know, and I don't have to be this way or the other, and if I do something--I'm not saying what, mind you--but if I do something he won't know about it. There's nothing really that I've done, you know, it's just I've thought about things and sometimes I don't know who I'm...but there's where we get back to the leading you on part, because I don't want to do that," I said in a rush. "In simpler terms I guess I'm saying that sometimes I'm glad that he's gone, because it means that I can be neutral, and I don't necessarily have to be dating anyone. I can just be...the way I am."  
  
"So you're saying that without Potter here, you and I don't have anyone standing inbetween us."  
  
"That's the raw version of it, yes."  
  
"A part of you is actually glad that Potter's gone," he said amusedly.  
  
"Erm...yes."  
  
"That part of you wants me. Really wants me."  
  
"I guess so." My cheeks were hot and I was trying to avoid eye contact with him.  
  
Draco gently touched my cheek, sliding his finger down my neck. I stiffened immediately. His finger made a slow line across my shoulder, and down my arm.  
  
"A part of you is liking this," he said. Draco's finger stopped at my wrist, and he wrapped his fingers around my wrist.  
  
"Draco," I said. "No."  
  
"Shh," he murmured. His right hand rested on my hip. "You want this."  
  
"No. No, I don't. You misunderstood me. I'm not trying to lead you on. If I have, well, I suck at telling people no, as I've shown in the past. But...no. This-this isn't what I want. I know that it may have seemed that it is what I want, but it isn't."  
  
"It is," he whispered, drawing me closer.  
  
"It's not," I persisted. I pushed him away forcefully. He seemed unfazed. I shoved again, harder, and Draco stumbled back a couple of feet. "Draco, consider yourself lucky if I'm still on first-name basis with you after tonight. I don't like it when you play the boy-card. I also don't like it when you take advantage of my vulnerability. So back the Hell off, unless you want me to knee you somewhere very unpleasant."  
  
"You wouldn't," he said, "you wouldn't dare. You've seen that I'm quite able to handle any pouncing attacks from teenage girls. And I know you don't doubt that I'd hit you to stop you from injuring me."  
  
I shrugged, walking past him. This fight was pointless. I was walking down the marble staircase, when he said, "I knew there was a reason you didn't help Potter escape this time. You don't care if he dies. You're probably just waiting for the Dark Lord to finish Potter off, and once he does, you'll hop into my arms and get on with your life."  
  
Whirling around, I grabbed my wand from my pocket. I strode to stand in front of Draco, who was smirking and looking as if he had just solved world hunger. He glanced at the wand I held loosely in my hand.  
  
"You're just afraid," he hissed, "because you know it's true."  
  
"I'm going to blast that smirk right off your face."  
  
"It's true, and you know it."  
  
"Dammit, Malfoy, I'm warning you."  
  
"You're so afraid to admit it."  
  
I shoved my wand into his face, and replied, "Stop lying to yourself, Malfoy. You know that you have no chance with me, but you're not willing to give it up. Because somewhere in that Malfoy credo, there's some rule that you're never to go down without a fight. Well guess what? Fight's over. You lost. Throw these deep-seated neuroses out the damn window. It's over. Anything we might have had is gone. In another lifetime, maybe this would have played out. But this time around, you lose."  
  
His face went slack. The eyes that had been sparkling a few moments before were almost black with something akin to hatred. He grabbed my wand from me, chucking it down the stairs. "Go fetch it, Nicole. Do something on your own, for once." Then, he turned around and left.  
  
I stared down at the bottom of the stairs, where my wand had fallen. After retrieving it, I headed upstairs, whereupon I collapsed onto my bed and cried silent tears into the pillow.  
  
---  
  
The next day, I woke with a pounding headache. Someone was shaking me. The large face of Dolores Umbridge hovered over me. I let out a strangled yelp and rolled off the other side of the bed.   
  
"Hem, hem," she cleared her throat.   
  
Standing, I asked, "What are you doing in my dorm?!"  
  
"It is, by my watch, eight o' clock sharp. And that means that my Guardianship has begun. Now, do dress and come to breakfast. I will be waiting in the common room. We do not have all day, so please hurry to the best of your abilities."  
  
She turned and left. I stared after her with an incredulous expression on my face. I dressed, and headed downstairs. The common room was devoid of people, except for Umbridge, who stood in a corner and hummed. I ignored her and made my way down to the great hall. As I entered, many students turned their eyes on me. I did my best to ignore them, as well. Sitting beside Ron, I began loading my plate with food. The hall seemed to have gone quite.  
  
"Ron," I whispered out of the corner of my mouth. "Why are they staring at me?"  
  
He flinched, pointing over to the Slytherin table. Draco sat in a chair, his feet crossed on the tabletop. He was out of uniform, wearing all black. Though he was not looking at me, I could sense that all of his thoughts were directed at me. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was staring pointedly at his feet.  
  
"But they're staring at me," I said.  
  
"They all think you've gone and pissed him off somehow. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are angry at you. He's their Head Boy, and even though they hate him, they're standing up for him," he replied. "And his shirt says...something."  
  
"What does it say?"  
  
"'I'll Keep My Deep-Seated Neuroses Rather than You,'" Hermione responded. "And on the back it says, 'Now Who's the Loser?'"  
  
"No one knows what it means," Ron said. "But they all know it has something to do with you. So what's up with you and Mister Head Boy?"  
  
"Damn him," I muttered under my breath. "He knew...he knew they'd do this to me. But that's what he wanted."  
  
"What does the shirt mean?" Hermione questioned.  
  
"I told him to throw his deep-seated neuroses out the window. And I told him that he lost this time around. I didn't think he'd take it so badly, but I should have known better. There's no way he's going to get me to apologise, though, and he knows it. But he'd rather have a show of him rejecting me, than the other way 'round. So I guess that this'll just run it's course and we'll all forget about it."  
  
Hermione frowned, "I don't think that's the way it works."  
  
Dean Thomas leant over to Ron and whispered something in his ear. Ron grimaced. "Even Neville's siding with Malfoy. Apparently, they think you've been cheating on Harry for the past few months, and even if it was--supposedly--with Malfoy, they'd rather pick him than you. Sorry, Nicole. I really like you, and all, but these are my best friends." He stood and went to sit with Seamus and Dean. Hermione gazed sadly at me.  
  
"He's my boyfriend," she said. "And I love him. I'm really sorry, too, but...I won't jeopardise my relationship with him. Harry wouldn't like what we're doing, and I'm sorry for that, too, but it's the only choice we have. Sorry." She went to sit beside Ron. They didn't look at me.  
  
I mentally shrugged and continued eating. Umbridge sat on the third chair to my right. She watched me carefully, making notes. But her gaze wasn't nearly as piercing as the other students'. Many of them still stared at me, though some ate. They were all silent.  
  
Draco took his feet off the table, and shoved his chair back from the table. He stood, and walked haughtily towards the doors of the Great Hall. Everyone stared at him as he left. In green and silver letters on the back of his shirt the words 'Now Who's the Loser?' leered at me. I resisted the urge to follow him and continued eating. As soon as he had left the room, Dean said quietly, "Elvis has left the building, ladies and gentlemen." As if on cue, the rest of the hall began talking.  
  
I pushed my plate away and headed out the door. Some people watched me go, while others merely pretended I didn't exist. Either way, I knew that everyone would been talking about me later. Umbridge followed me out, and I headed to my first class. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve  
  
Draco pranced around in that stupid t-shirt all day. The teachers made no comment, instead choosing to berate me for being distant during classes. How could I not be distant when everyone in the school hated me?   
  
Umbridge sat beside me throughout the day, causing the other students to stare. She interrupted the teachers on a regular basis, and when Snape was introducing the new potion we were to study, Umbridge cleared her throat and spoke. Snape was even more sour than usual after that, and he gave me no marks for my slightly-runny potion.  
  
The day went steadily downhill.  
  
Draco's fanclub--which was comprised of Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bullstrode, Blaise Zabini, and a few other girls from different houses--mocked me whenever I passed, and continually hung all over Draco. He was loving the attention, and his coy smirk gave me the urge to punch him.  
  
At lunch, Draco was surrounded by his fanclub, all of whom shot me dirty looks across the room. He paid me no attention, which was fine with me. The only thing I could not stand was the fact that I was alone.  
  
The rest of the day passed slowly, but without major incidence. When I finally fell into bed, I was glad to lose myself in the sweet abandonment of sleep.  
  
--Dream--  
  
Draco stood in the middle of his bedroom. He grabbed a crystal globe-like object from the mantlepiece, gazed at it for a moment and then hurled it across the room. It shattered and fell to the floor in pieces.  
  
"Damn her!" he yelled. "It's--all--her--fault!" He chucked a book at the wall.  
  
"It's always my fault," I sighed from the doorway.  
  
He spun around. "You're not supposed to be here. It's my dream, not yours. Get out."  
  
"I can't. You know that. If you'd just stop having dreams with me here, then I wouldn't be here. But I'm here and I don't know how to wake up. And unless you know something about this that I don't, then neither of us can do very much to wake up."  
  
Draco took a step toward me, his hands in his pockets. "Hitting you would probably wake both of us up. And it'd make me feel better. So why don't I just skip to that part?"  
  
"Sexual frustration," I said. "Not surprising."  
  
"Are you trying to piss me off?"  
  
"I might be. Are you pissed off?"  
  
"Yes, now that you mention it. Now I'm going to skip to the yelling and hitting each other part of the dream. That okay with you?" he questioned. "Because if it's not I could always try to care. But I probably won't."  
  
"Hit me and I hit back," I replied. "Are you sure you could handle me in all my fury?"  
  
"Of course." He stepped around an armchair and advanced towards me, keeping my eye contact. My eyes flicked down to his black t-shirt which seemed, at first to be the same one he had worn today. But it readed different things every few moments.  
  
The first message I read was, It sucks being laughed at. The second: I almost feel bad for doing that to her. But then it read: But she hates me anyways so it doesn't matter. Lastly it read: She's so sexy when she's angry.  
  
"Um, Draco, your shirt..." I motion at my chest and then pointed at him. He looked down, pulling his shirt from his body to read. It said: Damn this shirt. "I think whatever you're thinking goes on the shirt."  
  
He became frustrated with it, and pulled it off, flinging it into the fireplace. His hair stood up on his head, and I laughed.  
  
"Don't tell me I have my thoughts pasted across my chest now, as well?" he groaned, spinning around to look in the mirror. Flattening his hair, he turned back to me. "All right. Well, that's a small comfort."  
  
"So you're not going to fight with me?"  
  
"I never said that," he replied.  
  
"Ah, good. Because now I get to see you bruise."  
  
"Challenging me, are you?"  
  
"You bet. You humiliated me in front of the entire school population; I am going to rip you to shreds and then stuff your bleeding heart into a blender. Sounds like fun, eh?"  
  
"Loads of it."  
  
I stepped forward, bringing us less than a foot apart. I gazed up at him while trying to ignore the fact that he was standing in front of me, shirtless, with no real reason to hit me. But I was able to conceal just about everything. His hands pressed against my shoulders, forcing me to stumble backwards. I fell into the wall and he advanced towards me.  
  
"You've always pushed me around," he said. "And I've let you."  
  
I smiled back, unafraid. He knew how far he could go without hurting me. It was like a game.  
  
"I want to push you around," Draco admitted. "I always have. You've always been in control of everything. It's my turn now. We do what I say, when I say it. Understand?"  
  
"Real life doesn't work like that," I said. "But it's your dream. Do whatever...but try to keep the emotional damage at a minimum, will you?"  
  
"If I feel like it." He pushed me back again and walked to the fireplace, where his shirt was smoldering quietly. I saw the long scars running down his back, no doubt from his father's cruel beatings. "Why are you staring at me?" he asked without turning around.  
  
"Because I can," I replied. "It's never been a problem with you before. In fact, if I remember correctly, you enjoyed it. But now you've obviously decided that it's more fun to complain."  
  
"When I wake up in the morning, I'll still hate you. In fact, I'll probably make another shirt, a green one, I think. Across the front, I think I'll write, 'My Dreams Don't Involve You.' Even if it's not entirely true, it'll make me feel better. So don't get used to all of this. Tomorrow you'll go back to being the most hated student in the entire school. And I'll go back to laughing at you with my fanclub."  
  
"Yeah, I suspected that was how you were going to react. After all, admitting that you were wrong never was your strong point. But it doesn't really matter. I never had many friends anyway."  
  
He stared into the fire, his arms rested on the mantle. "You had me," said Draco quietly. "And you had Potter. But neither of us was very appreciated by you. You took us for granted. You thought that one of us would always be around to help you get through life, but now...Potter's gone. Maybe forever. And I'm not coming within ten feet of you at school. So what're you going to do? How're you going to cope?"  
  
"You act like I'm supposed to be an adult," I pointed out. "But you realise that I've just turned seventeen. While I should technically be able to care for myself, I'm not ready for that. I've been pushed into this situation, and I can't find a way out of it. And you ask me what I'm going to do? Here's the answer: I'm going to do the best I can. Coping? I don't know if that's possible, but if it is, I'll try to manage it. I've never been alone like this before. You said it yourself. But I'll try, because trying is the only thing I can really do right now."  
  
He turned to face me, crossing his arms over his chest. "You really think you can do this? You know, this whole saving the world without batting an eyelash? Do you think you're capable of doing it?"  
  
"No way," I replied. "I've never been capable of it. Everyone's tried to put a little faith in me, but what they don't realise is that it all drains out. Faith's left me. All of you have tried to give me some hope, but hope's been overcome by hatred. And trust, well, we all know that trust is broken as often as Neville's teacups in this world. So what does that leave for me to hold on to? As you mentioned, I've got no one left. I have myself and the knowledge that if I screw this up, the Boy Who Lived will become the Boy Who Lived and then Died. If I make a single wrong move, Hogwarts will be obliterated, and everyone will have no one to blame but me. So not only am I utterly alone, but I have no hope, no faith, and no trust. In a phrase, I am without everything. But the strongest person in the world is the person who stands alone, or so I've read. I just hope it's true."  
  
"We all do," he replied.  
  
----  
  
The next day was as bad, if not worse. Draco had indeed made a green shirt with the phrase 'My Dreams Don't Involve You' across the front. After classes he could be seen lounging against the bookshelves in the libary, chatting with his fanclub.  
  
I was in the library, with Umbridge. My Guardian sat across from me, placidly going over her notes, and occasionally making new ones. Draco sat on one of the tables in the corner, with Pansy Parkinson sitting on his knee. Blaise Zabini stood across from them, smirking. A few other nameless Slytherins stood around, and only a couple of non-Slytherin girls were present.  
  
Something Draco said made them burst into giggles, and Pansy wrapped one of her arms loosely around his neck, kissing his cheek. Zabini shook her head, uttering a few soft words. The other girls stopped laughing, listening to her closely. She finished, and the other girls laughed again. Pansy reached across to Blaise, hitting her lightly on the shoulder. Blaise smirked again, and said something else. Draco grinned wickedly, threading his arm around Pansy's waist.  
  
"I mean, it's not as if everyone liked her anyway," Blaise said loudly. "They were all just dying for a reason to hate her. But now...she's about as likeable as an Acromantula. And unless you're someone like Hagrid, Acromantulas aren't likeable at all."  
  
Draco smiled, nuzzling Pansy's neck. She drew her fingers down his neck, as one of the other girls began speaking. Draco was conspicuously quiet; Pansy engrossed him completely. I doubted that her personality was what kept him distracted, however it might have seemed to his fanclub. It was more likely that he was enjoying the attention she bestowed upon him.  
  
Pansy whispered into his ear, and the grin slowly dissolved from his face. He glanced casually towards me, before saying loudly, "It's true that I was, unfortunately, infatuated with her for the shortest of times. She was more like a call girl though, you know. Pick-me-up, actually. We never actually did anything, but really, the bint didn't know why I seemed to like her so much. I was hoping to get a few laughs out of it. That didn't pan out so well. In the end a few words to put her off didn't work, so I had to tell her flat out. Just didn't understand, that one."  
  
I stood, deferring Umbridge's questions. Walking deliberately towards Draco, I grinned at the fanclub. Pansy sensed that something was coming, and she slid from Draco's lap, moving to Blaise's side. Draco perched on the table, one eyebrow arched in a Malfoy-esque manner. I tilted my head to the side, smiling. Then I slapped him, with such force that his head snapped to the side, an angry red handprint appearing on his usually pale cheek.  
  
"You couldn't be more like your father if you tried," I growled. "And this--" I spit onto his shoes, "--is what I really think."  
  
Turning, I stormed out of the library. There were heavy footsteaps behind me as I headed towards the marble staircase. Draco caught my arm and threw me back into the wall. My head slammed into the wall. The sharp crack of my head against the stone seemed to reverberate inside my mind. I slid to the floor, but Draco pulled me back up.  
  
"Who the hell do you think you are?" he whispered, his voice full of venom. "You think you can just walk up and slap me, and then leave? You are mistaken. I don't know if you realise how close you are to being..." he let out a sharp hiss. "If I don't hit you, it will be a miracle."  
  
My head spun, and my vision went blurry. "Can't--see," I mumbled. "Head--hurts."  
  
"You're lucky that's the only thing that's hurting you right now," he growled. "I doubt you have a concussion. If you did, then I might pretend to feel bad. But since I don't think you do, I'm not going to care."  
  
"You're going to be in so much trouble for this."  
  
"For giving you what you deserved? For wanting to hit you?" He let out a bark of laughter.  
  
"Let me go, before I scream," I said hoarsely.  
  
"Scream. Go ahead, do it. I'd enjoy it," he said tersely.  
  
Tears formed at the corners of my eyes. "I hate you. You're a sadistic coward. I can't believe I ever even considered loving you. I don't even know what I thought I saw in you, but whatever it was, obviously I hallucinated it."  
  
His gaze hardened and his fingers tightened around my arm. I flinched, causing him to smile. "You know, maybe I am like my father. Why does it matter so much to you if you hate me? After all, it's not me you're dating, is it. No, wonder boy Potter, is the one you're with. Or, at least, if you hadn't run away, you'd be with him."  
  
"Let me go," I moaned, pushing him back. He slammed me back into the wall. "Ow...my head. Let go of me. Leave me alone."   
  
Tears streamed down my cheeks. He shook his head, whispering in my ear, "Never."  
  
Pansy and Snape came from the corridors that led down to the dungeons. Snape strode to us, quickly pulling Draco from me. The handprint had faded a little from Draco's cheek, but Snape noticed it immediately.  
  
"Mister Malfoy, Miss Stevens, to the Headmaster's office with both of you."  
  
"But, Professor--" Pansy began. "It was Draco's fault."  
  
"Nothing from you, Parkinson. I do not need comments on the situation. Mister Malfoy, go to the Headmaster's office. Miss Stevens, follow him."  
  
"Professor Snape," Draco said. "It's not--"  
  
"Go!" Snape bellowed, pointing at the stairs. Draco nodded reluctantly, going up the stairs. "Miss Stevens--" he stopped as I collapsed to the floor. "Miss Stevens," he said, shaking me. My eyes closed as I fell unconscious.  
  
---  
  
My head was sore when I awoke. I uttered a sharp curse and sat up, only to be pushed back down. Dumbledore stood over me, frowning slightly.  
  
"Miss Stevens, please refrain from moving, if you will."  
  
"Ugh. My head hurts. I feel..." a wave of nausea swept over me, "sick."  
  
Dumbledore helped me up and took me to the bathroom, standing outside the door. I was violently sick into the toilet, and the only thing that kept me on my feet was the fact that I could hold onto the sink. Heading back out, I was met by Draco and Dumbledore. Draco reached out to steady me, but I shot him a glare and walked to my bed. I sat.  
  
"Miss Stevens, I think Mister Malfoy would like a word. I'll just be in Madam Pomfrey's office, in case you need to speak to me."  
  
Draco watched him go, before sitting in the chair beside my bed. He gazed at the floor. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt you. It was...it was a stupid mistake. I let my anger get the best of me, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." He reached for my hand, but I flinched away. Draco let his hand drop, a pained expression on his face. "I can't...I can't do this." He stood up, running his hands through his hair. "I have to go."  
  
I shrugged, waving a hand at the door. He went to the doorway; stopped, looking back at me. Then he left. I fell back against the pillows, already exhausted. Dumbledore appeared, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Poor young man. So much pressure. Now, Miss Stevens, do tell me what he had to say?"  
  
"I think it was an apology. Whatever it was, he sure had an awfully hard time saying it, which is why I think it was probably an apology. He doesn't like to apologise," I muttered. "But that's beside the point. What punishment do I get? I struck another student, so...punishment is in store for me, right?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, indeed it is. The situation is odd, but punishment is in order. Professors Snape and McGonagall are conferring on what punishment suits. I suspect, though I could be wrong, that it will be planned for sometime within the week."  
  
"Oh no," I groaned. "Snape's choosing my punishment."  
  
"Yes, though Professor McGonagall is helping him with that duty. Now, do you remember why you slapped Mister Malfoy?"  
  
I thought for a moment, "He was talking about me. He said some awful stuff, so I slapped him. If anyone ever deserved to be slapped, he did."  
  
"Ah, yes. He said that was what happened, but I had to verify it. Now, Miss Stevens, you should get some rest. Your concussion has been healed, but sleep will help the nausea to pass. Goodbye, Miss Stevens," Dumbledore said. He turned and left the infirmary.  
  
I rolled over, letting sleep wash over me. 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen  
  
Everyone in the entire school knew what had taken place. In a record-breaking twelve hours the Slytherin girls had managed to spread the story throughout the school. Even the first years walked as far from Draco as possible. It was a simple matter of being afraid of him, really.   
  
Pansy and the rest of the fanclub were, for the most part, telling people that it was my fault. When they saw me in the halls they smirked and became intensely quiet. It didn't bother me very much; I had bigger problems to worry about.  
  
At the moment, my biggest problem was getting through detention. Snape and McGonagall had decided that making Draco and I work together on something was horrific enough to keep us both from going to blows again. We had been sentenced to working with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest.  
  
My feet dragged as I headed downstairs. I was not overly fond of the forest, having had previous experiences there. Some of the things that had happened to me had emotionally scarred me--such as an unfortunate encounter with the Dark Lord--and I was not looking for more permanent damage.  
  
Umbridge trailed after me, her notebook and quill in hand. I hoped she would be lost in the forest, because though she had apparently had an unpleasant experience with the centuars, she had acknowledged her duty as Guardian and put her fears to the side. It was, supposedly, a huge sacrifice on her part--an opening of old wounds, or some nonsense. I just wanted to find the centuars and hand her over. But I didn't want to be accused of murder again.  
  
Draco was waiting at the foot of the marble staircase, looking as Malfoy-ish as he could. He saw me, nodding in greeting. I ignored him entirely and continued down to the hut. Draco walked beside me, but he kept his distance. At the doorway, he turned to Umbridge as said, "Could you check to be sure Hagrid's there?" She considered it for a moment, and Draco added, "Otherwise we might have to go into the forest by ourselves." That brought her to her conclusion. She pushed open the door and hurried to the hut.  
  
Draco turned to me, taking my hand. I recoiled. "Won't you even listen while I try to apologise? I don't do this unless it's important. So just...calm down. Relax a little. Hear me out."  
  
"If you remember, I heard you loud and clear. And when I showed you what I thought about your comments, I ended up with a concussion and you were left with a red handprint across your cheek. Did it bruise?"  
  
"Yes, it had a little bruising. Now, won't you listen?"  
  
"No." I opened the door, stepping out into the cold night. He followed me with a kind of sad desperation.  
  
"I need you to hear this," he said.  
  
"I don't need to hear it, and I don't want to hear it. In fact, I don't want to hear your voice at all. I'd like it if you just weren't here at all, but as that's not an option, the next best thing is for you to be so silent that it's like you didn't exist."  
  
He sighed.  
  
"That's not silent," I said. "And I want silence from you and nothing else." Draco stopped walking, as I realised what I had said.  
  
"You mean that?"  
  
I shrugged, and we continued to Hagrid's cabin. Draco took off his cloak, offering it to me. I stared at it for a few moments.  
  
"What's that for?" I asked.  
  
"It's a cloak. Keeps you warm, you know."  
  
"No, really? I thought it was a straightjacket," I mocked. "Because the entire school now thinks I'm deranged."  
  
"Do you want it?"  
  
I hid a shiver, "Not at all." He wrapped it around my shoulders despite my words, fastening the clasp at my neck. "I said I didn't want it."  
  
"I don't care what you said."  
  
"Fine. But I'm not giving it back, mind you. It's your fault if you liked it."  
  
"That's all right. I don't need it."  
  
We reached the hut, where Hagrid was waiting with Umbridge. Umbridge was eyeing Hagrid with distaste, but she knew that he was the only thing standing between her the creatures in the forest.   
  
"Let's get going, then," Hagrid said. "We're going to be checking on the thestrals. Some of the younger ones are being attacked...I dunno what's attacking them, but they're being hurt pretty bad. So, if you'll just follow me. Be quite now; mind the tree roots."  
  
He held the lantern above our heads and led us into the forest. Draco walked behind me, and I walked behind Umbridge. A bird screamed overhead. Umbridge jumped when I cracked a twig. I tried not to laugh, but it was difficult. From behind, Draco murmured, "No, this is not a pointless detention. We're just meandering through the dark forest. Great."  
  
"Shut up. It's our fault we're here in the first place. I just want to get it over with."  
  
He shrugged, staring darkly into the forest. "I don't like this. Something's...not right."  
  
"What?" I asked sharply.  
  
"There's something wrong. I don't know what it is. But I don't think being in the forest is the best idea. We should go back to the castle. Dumbledore needs to know."  
  
I glanced over my shoulder at him. "What do you know that I don't?"  
  
"There are vampires in the forest. They've been here for a while. My father decided to station them here. Damian Vitale was the head of the group, but now it's Xander Adelmare. Both are good fighters, but Vitale is younger. He has renown, which is why he was initially chosen. But he doesn't follow directions well. He does it his way. Adelmare is willing to take orders. So Vitale was removed from his position. His job is smaller now."  
  
"Oh, great. Are we in danger from them?"  
  
"Always. Do you have the necklace with you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Good. They're watching us. They'll be able to tell."  
  
"Where are they?" I whispered.  
  
"That dark shape by the black willow, do you see it?" He nodded to a tree on the far side of a clearing. A dark shape hovered behind it like a shadow.   
  
"Yeah."  
  
"That's Vitale. He was the one who caught you."  
  
"And he was removed because he botched it?"  
  
"Yes. He's not too happy about it. Watch out for him," he warned. "He's been sent to keep an eye on us, I guess. Adelmare trusts him to do that."  
  
"How many are there?"  
  
"Twelve in the camp; three watching us. The other two are women. Lenore Arian, and Ravenna Nyx. They're powerful, but not the most dangerous vampires you might come up against. Go on. They're getting too far ahead."  
  
I quickened my step, which resulted in my tripping over my own feet. Draco caught me and pulled me back to my feet.   
  
"Now, you two'd better keep quiet. There are dangerous creatures in the forest. It's why we're here in the first place."  
  
"Hem, hem," Umbridge coughed. "Actually, we are here because Miss Stevens lost her temper and struck another student."  
  
"That's not entirely true," Draco broke in. "I hit her too."  
  
Umbridge shrugged, saying, "Miss Stevens provoked you." She turned back to Hagrid and we followed him. We were in the depth of the forest now; shouldn't we have already reached the thestrals?   
  
Draco tapped my shoulder, whispering, "Vitale on your right. I don't like this. They're getting too close to us. If they're just watchers, this is odd. But they might have been sent for more than that. Stay alert. I'll keep my eye on Vitale, you watch the others. They're on the left. For now."  
  
I nodded. Hagrid stopped in a moonlit clearing, waving at a dark shape on the ground. "This thestral's been hurt bad. Throat slit. But it's alive. Malfoy, I want you to go with Miss Umbridge back to my cabin. Can you carry it?"  
  
Draco surveyed the thestral. "I think I can, yeah."  
  
"Hagrid, I am not permitted to leave Miss Stevens' side."  
  
Hagrid thought for a moment. "Can you carry it?" he asked me.  
  
I frowned. "I doubt it."  
  
Hagrid pondered this for a moment. He nodded his head silently, staring at the ground. "Yeah. Okay, then. Malfoy, you carry this thing to my cabin on your own. Stay there with it. We'll be back in an hour or so. Keep out of trouble, hear me?"  
  
Draco agreed, kneeling and picking up the thestral. It was the size of a large dog, but thinner. Hagrid coughed suddenly, saying roughly, "It's a young one. Get it back fast. Go on, now." He waved Draco away. Draco glanced at me one last time, before heading back to the cabin. "Now, we've got to find whatever's been hurting them. It's some big thing, I know. But I can't think of what it is that would kill them. Humans are the only things that could really do it. I don't think it's a human, though."  
  
I thought for a moment. Vampires needed blood to live. The thestral's throat had been slit. "Probably just vampires," I growled softly. "They tend to do things like that."  
  
Hagrid looked curiously at me. "Not too many vampires around here. But it's a thought. Let's move deeper into the forest and see if we can find anything else."  
  
I glanced around us at the trees; I couldn't see any vampires, but they were there. Umbridge cleared her throat, motioning for me to hurry. I followed after her. Hagrid was only a few paces ahead; he seemed to sense that there were creatures in the shadows, but he wasn't sure what kind of creatures they were. I was unlucky enough to know.   
  
A breeze blew through the trees, stirring the leaves. I paused. Umbridge was getting further ahead. A hand covered my mouth suddenly and I was pulled back into the forest. I lashed out, clawing at the hand. But I was already deeper into the forest. "Don't you humans know when to leave? I told that giant to get out of the forest, but he ignored my warning. But that's not important anymore. I've caught you."  
  
"Vitale? Let go of me. I don't have what you want."  
  
"I don't want anything particular from you. Now shut up. I'm taking you back to camp. Alistair will want to question you. Not another word out of you before we get back. Don't make me bite you again."  
  
"You'd get in trouble for that."  
  
"You taste good. I don't really care about the trouble. I can get out of trouble easily. Now," he wrapped his fingers around my throat. "Come on."  
  
He pulled me back into the forest, and after a few minutes he let go of my throat and grabbed my wrist instead. "You're far more trouble than you're worth. Do you realise that? If it hadn't been for you, I could've stayed as the head of this camp. But no," he sighed. "You had to go and make trouble. I wouldn't have bitten you if you hadn't fought against me. At least this time I have permission to bite you if you fight."  
  
I shrugged. Vitale scratched my arm, drawing blood. He wiped the blood onto his finger, licking it away. There was a fire ahead. He pushed me toward it. A woman caught me by the hair and shoved me into a tree. "Ravenna," a man said warningly. "Don't."  
  
She glared at me for a moment, before stepping back and hissing, "There you are, Alistair. Take her."  
  
"Alexavier," another woman said, moving out of the shadows, "who is this?"  
  
"The girl. The one we were sent to watch," Vitale replied. "She doesn't know who you are, Alistair. Introduce yourself."  
  
The man came towards me, extending a hand for me to shake, "I am Alexavier Alistair."  
  
"Why should I care who you are? You're a vampire."   
  
He sighed, nodding and running his hands through his brown hair. "Yeah. I noticed. Come on, now. I need to talk with you," he took me by the arm. "Ravenna, your death vision doesn't work on me. I'm sure Miss Stevens is already well aware that you're intimidating, after that lovely welcome you gave her." A woman moved into his path, " Get out of my way, Leonore." The black haired girl crossed her arms over her chest and didn't move.  
  
"Move, Arian," a dark voice growled from behind me.  
  
She looked shocked and stumbled out of the way. "Rayne. You're back. So soon. I thought it might take longer because you had so much to report, but I guess I was mistaken. I didn't mean to offend Alexavier."  
  
"I'm sure you didn't. Alistair, take her and talk with her. Explain. Arian, go to the hut. Tell the boy we have her. He'll know what to do. Nyx," Rayne addressed Ravenna. "Just go. Get out of camp. Go for a walk. Do something, but whatever it is, do it somewhere else. And Damian--"  
  
"You don't tell me what to do," Damian snarled. "You don't have any power over me."  
  
"Adelmare said to go round up the others from patrol. Do it, Damian."  
  
Damian muttered something, to which Rayne replied, "Immediately. And I'll fall on a stake at my leisure."  
  
Damian scowled and left. "Alistair, go."  
  
He nodded and took me out of the clearing to a tent. I stepped inside, finding a seat on a wooden bench. Alexavier sat across from me. "You're Stevens, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So you have the Opticilym with you now?"  
  
"No. Which is why I told Vitale that it was pointless to bring me here. But he didn't listen. So, I might as well be taken back to the castle. Because it doesn't matter that I'm here. No one can get the Opticilym if I'm here."  
  
"True. Damian was told to follow you until you were out of Draco Malfoy's protection, and then he was supposed to bring you here. He was following orders. Don't blame him for that. If you want to blame him for something, blame him for treating his brother like an enemy. Then your blame will be warranted."  
  
"Well, can I go?"  
  
"Not yet. Later, I suppose you will be let go. But not yet."  
  
"I'm sick of talking about myself," I said. "It seems everywhere I go people want to know more about me. So let's talk about you. Who are you?"  
  
"Fine. I'm Alexavier Alistair. I was changed about half a century ago, when I was twenty-five. Sharliana, Ravenna's sister, is the one who changed me. I always knew I hated her for some reason...well, I found out quickly. Anyway...I've been working with Gabrielle Adelmare, Xander's sister, for the past few years. We do odd jobs for people, for good money. She came to work with her brother, so I followed. I'm not a Death Eater, if that's what you're thinking. I don't really trust them. I haven't picked a side. I just happen to be working here, for now, and for good pay, as well."  
  
"Fun."  
  
"Yeah, I guess it would sound like fun to someone who's had as many problems as you've had. How long have you lived in England?"  
  
"Three years. The best and worst three years of my life."  
  
"Best and worst? Isn't that a paradox? Or are you just a walking contradiction?"  
  
I laughed. "It would seem so. I've fallen in love twice, been taken by the Dark Lord more times than that, and the Cruciatus Curse really does hurt even after the first time."  
  
"Ouch. Sounds like a busy three years."  
  
"Blame it on the hormones. Everyone else does."  
  
"I was a teenager too. I know what it's like."  
  
"Hmn...I used to think being a teenager was going to be so fun. It sucks, though. Some parts are great, but other times make you want to die. When I was ten the only thing I was worried about was whether Billy Mitchell would curse me again. Now I have to watch my back because someone's always trying to kill me, or someone close to me."  
  
"Where has the fun of youth gone?" he sighed. "I think the others are back now. Rayne should be announcing what the plans are soon. Adelmare'll be getting back soon. You'll be out of here within the next hour or two, I think."  
  
A man entered the tent, smiling at me. "This is her? No wonder she caught his eye." I did a double-take. He sounded like Draco. He looked like Draco.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Griffin Malfoy."  
  
"You're related to Draco. How?"  
  
"I'm his father's second cousin."  
  
"You're a vampire," I noted. "And I thought his family was weird before...now I need a new word. Weird seems too ordinary."  
  
He laughed. "Yes, I quite agree. Alexavier, Adelmare's back with Gabrielle. They have news. Rayne's catching them up. Do you want me to take over from here?"  
  
Alistair's eyes brightened at Gabrielle's name. "Yeah. Just take her outside and keep her from being pummeled by the others. Don't stand near Vitale...he might lash out."  
  
"Which Vitale?"  
  
"Damian."  
  
"Ah, right," Griffin said. Alexavier left the tent quickly. Griffin held out a hand, and I took it. He helped me to my feet, and led me outside. Vampires stood all around the clearing. I recognised some of them, and some I didn't know. Griffin took me to stand beside a tree. "You surprised me," he whispered, so as not to attract attention to me. "I thought that any girl Draco fell for would be a full succubus. It was hard to tell what you were, but I wasn't far off. Half isn't bad. Still pretty powerful."  
  
"Succubus?"  
  
"Don't you know what a succubus is?" I shook my head. "A succubus is a demon, of sorts. She is one who can seduce men, and does it without even thinking or realising that she's doing it."  
  
"And you thought I'd be one?"  
  
"You are one," he replied. "Not a full one, but...it's there. I doubt even Draco realised it."  
  
"I'm a demon?!"  
  
"Oh, don't overreact. So is Draco. He's not a full-blood, either. As a male demon, he's a incubus. But that's where lots of the attraction comes from, I'm sure. You naturally attract men. It's just what you do, so you needn't look so horrified. You couldn't control it if you wanted to. Even I was struck by it. The undead--vampires, I mean--aren't even immune to succubi."  
  
"I'm a demon?!"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Draco's a demon?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And the only reason he likes me is because incubi and succubi naturally attract each other?"  
  
"No. I'm sure that's why he noticed you in the beginning, and why he worked so hard to get to you, but after all that, he fell in love."  
  
"Harry wouldn't have been affected by it, would he? He isn't just attracted to me because I'm a demon, right?"  
  
"He would have noticed you, but he wouldn't have known why. And after a while, he would have fallen in love with you. Surely he's not just in it for attraction. That would be stupid."  
  
"Yeah," I reassured myself. "Of course. That's it."  
  
Rayne came out from the shadows, nodding around the clearing at the other vampires. "Adelmare is back from the meeting. It has been decided that the girl is to be released, and escorted back to the castle. On to the next issue: another meeting has been set up. It will take place in one week. We all must be present for it. I believe that's all for now. You may go." He walked toward us, looking grim. "Griffin, go smooth things over, if you will. I'll escort Miss Stevens back to the castle."  
  
Griffin turned to me, grinning, "I suspect I'll be seeing you soon. Have fun messing with Draco's head."  
  
Rayne waved him away. "Let's get out of here. Staying much longer would be a bad idea. If Gabrielle sees you..." He faded off, looking darkly into the shadows. Then he and I headed out of the camp. "You've met Gabrielle, haven't you?"  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"She mentioned something about a door on a train...and a message."  
  
"Oh! The girl who blew up the door to my compartment! Yeah. I met her. She gave me a message and a bracelet. I wore the bracelet for a while, but then I started getting death threats. So I stopped wearing it and threw it out the window. I didn't want to be in more danger than I already was."  
  
"It was probably a good idea that you stopped wearing it. Lucius put a tracking charm on it. He wanted to know where you were at all times. But if you threw it out, I doubt it's done you much damage. So, I heard that you and Draco had an incident. What happened?"  
  
"Oh, he was bad-mouthing me so I slapped him. And in return he shoved me into a wall. It's not really important. I got over it and so did he. Do you know how close he is to Dumbledore?"  
  
Rayne frowned, pushing past a bush. "Don't you know?"  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"Draco's working with Dumbledore. He's a spy. Part of some organization that Dumbledore leads. I don't remember what the name is, but it's high priority. Draco has been working with them for several months. I thought that he would tell you, as you two are so close. It's odd...you're sure he never mentioned anything?"  
  
"He's never said anything about working with Dumbledore."  
  
"Maybe I shouldn't have told you, then. It might have been kept secret for a reason. I don't know."  
  
"I'll speak with him about it."  
  
Rayne and I were nearing the edge of the forest. I could see the lights of Hogwarts glittering in the distance. He stopped, and I followed suit. " Go to Hagrid's cabin. Draco will be waiting for you, I think. Goodbye." He turned and disappeared into the forest. I continued on to Hagrid's hut, with questions spiraling in my head.   
  
There were some things that I needed to know. And I needed Draco to give me the answers I was looking for. 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen  
  
I arrived at the cabin and was immediately bombarded with questions, mostly from Umbridge. She was livid.   
  
"You ran off in to the forest on your own! I will have to report this to the school governors, and to the Headmaster! What might have happened in my absence could have been terrible!"  
  
I sank slowly into a chair. She continued yelling at me. "This type of behaviour is exactly why I came here in the first place! You are a delinquent and you must be punished for this act of blatant disregard for the rules!"  
  
Draco gazed dully at her. He raised his hand in a tired manner. Umbridge glared at him, "Yes, Malfoy?"  
  
"She didn't go off because she wanted to. She was forced to go."  
  
"Oh? And by whom?"  
  
His gaze shifted to me momentarily. "There are vampires in the forest. They wanted her blood. Luckily, she got away. Didn't she tell you?"  
  
I frowned at the tabletop. Umbridge glared at me. "Is this true?"  
  
"Mostly."  
  
"Very well then. I will document this in my report. Now, it is time to return to the castle. Miss Stevens, come with me."  
  
I stood and followed her out the door. Draco pushed his chair back from the table and trailed after me. Umbridge led us back to the castle, where she shooed Draco away. He turned to me, taking my hand in a friendly gesture. "Goodnight," he said to me. I nodded, and he left to the Slytherin dungeons. I trailed after Umbridge as she walked with me up to the Gryffindor common room. She waited for me to go inside before leaving.  
  
Once inside, I threw Draco's cloak onto the chair and fell onto the couch, staring into the fire. I could remember countless times sitting here with Harry, talking about everything and nothing all at one time. He was always such a gentleman. There was nobody like him in the world. He was like a little piece of heaven on earth. But the fact that I was a--what was it?--a succubus meant that it could have been nothing but lust that drew him to me. Well, lust was surely a factor. I had looked into his eyes and seen something more. Something other than lust. Or so I had thought.  
  
This new revelation was contradicting everything, every emotion that I had felt towards Draco, every emotion Harry might or might not have felt towards me. It made everything so complicated. I wondered if it was possible that they both loved me for reasons other than my demon-attractiveness, or whatever it might be called. It was unlikely. I didn't have what people would call an addictive personality.  
  
All of this gave me a headache. I was confused; I was sick of being confused. It seemed to be one of the only emotions I had left in me. But confusion was better than being dead. At least, that's what I believed. I had never died before, so I really wouldn't know how it was.  
  
There was only one solution to the confusion. Draco. He was always the solution, or so it seemed. The boy with all the answers. What he had done to gain the answers I wasn't sure I wanted to know. But he had them, and I wanted them. So, I made a decision. I was going to ask him everything I wanted to; everything that I'd never had the chance to ask; everything that I'd never thought to bring up. Maybe not all in one night, but a few questions were easily dealt with.  
  
I pulled Draco's cloak over my shoulders and pushed open the portrait. The fat lady gave a twitch in her sleep, and growled something. I whispered, "Wake up. You're going to have to be awake when I get back. Got it?"  
  
"...no right to tell me...my job, not yours...yes, of course, I'll be awake."  
  
I thanked her and jogged quickly down to the entrance hall. Mrs. Norris, the old cat belonging to the senile Mr. Filch, hissed from the corner. I pressed a finger to my lips and said, "I know curses that work on little kitties too. So shut up and forget I ever came by here you stupid beast." She backed off. I grinned to myself and continued down to the dungeons.  
  
"Tempestus Goddard," I whispered to the bare strip of wall that marked the entrance to the Slytherin dorms. It slid open soundlessly. I stepped inside, lighting the tip of my wand to see my way. As clumsy as I was--and I was very clumsy--I was lucky in that I knocked nothing over on my way to Draco's room. I stopped outside his door, raising my hand to knock.  
  
And then I heard a voice.  
  
"Draco...you can't be serious?"  
  
"I am."  
  
"You're working to gain back Stevens' trust? Merlin's beard, do you not see how stupid a plan that is? You'd fall for her again. And she would have you wrapped around her finger. If you do this, you will be endangering everything. Every plan that we have put into motion would run the risk of failing miserably."  
  
"Every plan has that risk. Life's a gamble, and I'm a gambler. Get over it."  
  
The girl lowered her voice so that I could only hear a few words. "...her?...ingenious is not what I would choose. Don't you...I doubt that. I've seen how you handle...anger management classes."  
  
Draco laughed whole-heartedly. "So now you're worried because I hurt her and she might not trust me entirely after it? She took my cloak, didn't she? She could have thrown it back in my face, but she didn't. She wore it, with more than a little pride, I can assure you. Nicole likes the attention. Or haven't you noticed?"  
  
"She..." the girl faded off. "And you too."  
  
"I don't think you have any right to be meddling in that. If I want to snog her senseless, then what's going to stop me? It won't affect me in the least. It might even get her closer to me. If it's a problem with you, take it up with the Dark Lord. See how he handles it, as he helped come up with this plan."  
  
"I might just do that," she said loudly.  
  
"Fine. Now, get out. I do sleep occasionally, and unless you're looking to be with me tonight, I plan to be sleeping within the next ten minutes."  
  
"Are you offering?"  
  
"Now, now, why would I offer anything to you?"  
  
"You rotten, slimy git."  
  
"Maybe," he replied. "But really..."  
  
"If I said yes you'd toss my out."  
  
"Not likely."  
  
"Whatever you say, Mister Head Boy. Goodnight."  
  
I ducked back into the common room and crouched behind a table. The girl--Blaise?!--came into the common room and headed to the girls' dormitories. I headed back to Draco's door and knocked. My knuckles protested the force with which I knocked, but I ignored it. The door opened, and Draco appeared, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Blaise, what is it now?"  
  
"I don't know," I replied. "What do you think it is?"  
  
His eyes widened, as he realised that it was not Blaise. "Nicole--"  
  
"Shut up, and let me in."  
  
Draco stepped aside and let me inside, closing and locking the door behind me. I tossed his cloak onto the bed and sat in one of the chairs by the warm fire. "You...have you been out there for long?"  
  
"Long enough to hear part of that lovely conversation, if that's what you mean, which I am sure it is. Care to tell me what that was all about? Or do I have to beat it out of you?"  
  
"Oh, I don't mind telling you. It's probably time you know anyway. Rayne owled me and told me that he'd let something slip about the Order. I meant to tell you eventually, but I never got around to it before this. Blaise works for the Dark Lord, as do most of the seventh year Slytherins. I suppose that with my father's standing in the Death Eater community that I am the head of all seventh year Death Eaters, or something like that. Blaise came tonight to talk about the plans. The Dark Lord has proposed, countless times, that I use you in his favour. I've been going along with it fairly well for a while. That's pretty much what Blaise was here for. She is, no matter how much her attitude argues, attracted to me. Better Blaise than Pansy, though I have Pansy on my hands as well. It's Malfoy Charm, I guess."  
  
"Malfoy Charm © 1768 Malfoy Inc."  
  
He grinned, nodding. "Some such nonsense," he said. "So, there you are. That's what all of it was about. Did you manage to get out of the way without her spotting you?"  
  
"Obviously, or I wouldn't be here."  
  
"So why are you here? I doubt you came just to bask in the warmth that is me. Or my fire."  
  
"I hope you mean the literal fire," I said, gesturing at the fireplace.   
  
"Yes, that's what I meant."  
  
"I came to ask you some questions. I know you know the answers, and I want you to answer me honestly. Although it is difficult for you to do the whole honesty thing, I want you to try. This may take a while, so you migh as well sit down."  
  
Draco took the seat across from me, and gazed at me attentively. "All right, fire away."  
  
"Well, firstly, why was I never told about Griffin?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Griffin. Griffin Malfoy."  
  
"Oh. He's my father's second-cousin. He was cast from the family because he fell in love with a vampire girl and let her change him. Griffin's father, Pride--who was aptly named--impaled Griffin's lover on a stake. Because, as we all know by now, you can't kill a vampire with a sword."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Why do you ask about him? I didn't think you'd looked at my lineage...obviously I was mistaken."  
  
"No. I didn't put any effort into meeting any more of your family that I already have. But I met Griffin. He was at the vampire camp. And he spoke to me."  
  
"Quite good with words, I suspect."  
  
"Yes. But he reminded me of you. He looked like you, spoke with the same persistent eloquence; he even moved with the same kind of pride that you do. It was eerie. He told me that he 'thought that any girl Draco fell for would be a full succubus.'"  
  
"He was implying that I am very hard to please. In the past, Malfoys have been attracted to exotic women, succubi among them. Usually the succubi must be witches, or we don't willingly except them into our family."  
  
"But you're an incubus."  
  
"I am, yes. My mother is a succubus, albeit a weak one. My father has traces of it in him. I have loads of incubus blood in me, but Malfoy blood is stronger," he said.  
  
"Griffin also said that he 'wasn't far off' and that 'half isn't bad.'"  
  
"Odd."  
  
"And then he told me what he was jabbering about. I'm part succubus. A very small part. He said that I naturally attract men and that I couldn't help it if I tried. It was the reason, he said, that I attracted you. Which would mean that it was also the reason that Harry was attracted to me. Isn't it great? No love for me, just demon bred attractiveness."  
  
Draco gave me a look. "You're serious?"  
  
"Is this my serious face?"  
  
"Yes. No. I don't know. You're part succubus...how strange. It explains a lot. But that doesn't mean that I don't love you. That's ridiculous."  
  
"No, I find it quite plausible." 


End file.
